


Dance Macabre

by Cadhla



Series: Trick or Treat or Trouble [1]
Category: Halloweentown (1998)
Genre: Be Careful What You Wish For, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-02
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:44:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 67,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5609146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cadhla/pseuds/Cadhla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Gwen orders Marnie to go to the prom, she triggers a series of events she couldn't possibly have predicted.</p><p>Set between <i>Halloweentown High</i> and <i>Return to Halloweentown</i>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Dances and Digressions

**1: A Family Discussion**

All was not well in the Piper household.

Gwen folded her arms, glaring at her eldest daughter. Marnie mirrored the gesture as she glared back. Marnie had grown several inches over the course of the year and was now capable of looking her mother squarely in the eye -- an ability she was taking full advantage of, now that she felt she was being unfairly denied. Unfortunately for her, Gwen had spent her own teenage years glaring at _her_ mother, and there’s nothing that teaches you to withstand disapproval like the glare of a full-fledged Cromwell witch.

 

Of course, thought Gwen wryly, technically Marnie could say the same thing about growing up with her.

“I said you’re going and that means that you’re going. Period, end of discussion, this conversation is over.”

“I don’t _want_ to go to some stupid dance!” Marnie snapped, cool fury dissolving in the face of her teenage temper. Gwen relaxed slightly. She was better at dealing with her eldest daughter when Marnie was acting like a normal human kid -- something she didn’t do nearly enough anymore.

Marnie wasn’t finished: “Why do I have to do this?”

“Firstly, because it isn’t just ‘some stupid dance’’; this is your Senior Prom, something that’s only going to happen once in your lifetime, and--”

“Susie Lynch went to the Senior Prom twice.”

“Susie Lynch repeated twelfth grade, and the last time I checked, you were still intending to graduate on time so that you could enroll in Witch U., get your magical degree, and go to study with your grandmother in Halloweentown. Unless you’ve changed your mind?” Gwen smiled thinly. She was fully aware that Marnie had no intention of staying in high school, or the mortal world, for one minute longer than she had to.

When her attempts to keep her children restricted to the mortal world and a normal human life failed, Gwen Piper found herself with a whole new set of problems. Raising three children alone after the death of her husband had been hard enough: raising two budding witches and an unwilling warlock was even worse.

Of course, there were also a few advantages to the situation. Although she remained largely unwilling to use magic in her daily life, having a daughter who could fly made sweeping the ceiling a lot easier--and threatening to withhold Marnie’s magic lessons usually ended even the most drawn-out household fights. It was a low tactic, but sometimes you had to stoop to low tactics if you wanted to stay on top of things.

Of her three children, only Dylan understood that she was trying to give them the one thing she’d never been allowed to have: a normal childhood in a normal world, without creatures and magic and madness to confuse them. They deserved the chance to live like real people, not pages out of a storybook, before they decided which of the worlds they wanted to live in. She’d been forced to admit that they had a choice, especially after Marnie and Sophie changed the way the world worked, propping the door to Halloweentown open all year long...but that didn’t mean she was giving up on them.

They were going to get the chance to be normal, whether they wanted it or not.

“I don’t understand why this is so important to you,” Marnie muttered, anger subsiding.

“Look, Marnie. I let you run that exchange program to bring Halloweentown students into the mortal world, didn’t I? I even let them stay here with us.”

“ _And_ you used magic, _and_ it all turned out for the best.”

“Whether that’s true or not, we had a deal. You got what you wanted; now it’s my turn to get what I want. And what I want is for you to go to the Senior Prom.”

“It’s still not fair.”

“Yet--surprise--you’re still going. You’ll have a great time, I promise. We’ll get you a nice new dress, something that’s _not_ black, and rent a limousine and everything. It’ll be just like it is in all the movies, you’ll see.”

“ _Carrie_ was a movie.”

Gwen sighed. “Just once, please, can’t you act like a normal teenage girl? You should be excited about prom, not looking at it like it’s a chore. You’re going. Be happy about it.”

There were no proms in Halloweentown. Silently, Marnie cursed John Hughes for giving her mother such stupidly romantic expectations. “Great, Mom. And while you’re out here enjoying your...your sick fairy godmother kick, I’ll be in my room. _Alone_.”

“Marnie, don’t be silly. How can I be a fairy godmother? I don’t even have wings.”

“Whatever.” Marnie turned on her heel and flounced away.

Gwen waited until she heard Marnie’s bedroom door slam, then collapsed backward onto the couch. “Oh, _Mother_ ,” she said, staring at the ceiling. “I know you’re only trying to make sure the Cromwell line continues to protect your world, but there are times when I wish my family was still normal, like we were before you fell back into our lives. That’s all I wanted us to be.

“Just normal.”

#

**Interlude: Making Wishes.**

The crystal flared, glittering with a soft white glow that filled the black quartz spire from within. The light pulled back into itself almost as fast as it had come, casting the room back into darkness--and yet, at the heart of the crystal, the faintest of sparks remained.

“That’s one.” The voice was a soft, languid hiss, more a whisper than anything real or solid.

The woman who sat in front of the crystal, watching it intently, raised her head and directed a warm smile into the darkness. “That means we only have three to go, my love.”

“And we only require two of them...”

The woman’s smile brightened further. “This may not take as long as we thought.” She turned her attention back toward the crystal, falling silent as she settled in to wait. Something rustled in the darkness, and she smiled again, saying only, “Have patience. It won’t be long.

“Not long at all.”

#

**2: Looks Aren’t Everything.**

“I hate this!” Marnie threw her hat toward the rack on the wall as she flopped onto her bed, landing facedown in the pillow. The hat fell short, and one of the rack’s narrow wooden arms extended, twisting around to seize the hat and pull it back into place before it could touch the ground. Marnie didn’t even notice. “I’d rather face the Council again, on trial for _treason_ , than go through with this stupid farce. It’s a travesty of justice! Why do I have to go to some stupid senior prom, anyway? It’s just going to be like every other awful dance at that awful school. Paper flowers all over the gym, and the same stupid people that I see every single stupid day of my stupid normal stupid _life_.”

“Mom says you have to go because it’s a vital part of the normal human high school experience. She says she’s going to make me go, too, when I’m old enough.” Sophie perched on Marnie’s desk chair, watching her sister warily. Marnie’s mood swings had always been impressive, and they’d only gotten worse over the past few years, since her witchy nature was revealed to the school and her social life--what little social life she’d bothered to maintain in the mortal world, which, well, had never been all that interesting to her--went through the floor. Losing her mortal boyfriend had been just about the last straw, but Cody didn’t have much of a choice; when his parents put their feet down about him dating a witch, the relationship was over before it could really begin.

Sophie knew that she was treading on dangerous ground, and she didn’t relish the thought of being in the room if the focus of Marnie’s anger shifted from Mom’s unreasonableness and onto her little sister. Still, she loved Marnie, for all that she was a stupid teenage know-it-all, and she wanted the best for her. And for her to stop shouting.

To Sophie’s surprise and mild dismay, Marnie didn’t yell. She just lifted her head, expression tired, and said, “News flash, Sophie: none of us are exactly having the ‘normal human high school experience’ as it is. Our grandmother’s a witch and is on-again, off-again dating the principal, which is probably the only reason the PTA hasn’t demanded we be thrown out of the school; I’m the current heir to the Cromwell family name, which, gee, _that_ makes me real popular, both with the cheerleading squad _and_ the forces of darkness, and I spend half my time in a place called Halloweentown that most people don’t even believe _exists_. _How_ is a single prom suddenly going to turn me _normal_?”

“All that, and you don’t have a date.”

“No, I _don’t_ have a date, thank you _so_ much for reminding me,” Marnie snapped. “No one in my school would be caught dead at the prom with ‘Marnie the witch’, even if their parents would let them take me. Which, golly gee, they wouldn’t. The kids in my class are probably already taking bets on whether or not I’m going to show up on my broomstick.”

“It would be cheaper than a limousine,” Sophie said, and shrugged. “Anyway, you can find a date if you really want one. I know somebody that would be _glad_ to go with you.”

“What? Who?” Marnie pushed herself up onto her elbows, staring at her little sister. Cody had dumped her for being a witch, and her only real “date” before him had been with Kal, the next door neighbor who turned out to be the son of Kalabar, sworn enemy of the entire Cromwell clan. Those experiences had combined to leave her more than a little wary, and when you combined “once bitten, twice shy” with the suspicion of the other students, her somewhat unusual field of interests and her extended after-school studies, well...

Marnie didn’t get out much anymore.

“He’s funny and smart, he does the right thing in a pinch, and he really, really likes you a lot...” This was the part Sophie was worried about: the sales pitch. She was also so tired of listening to Marnie whine that she was ready to try just about anything to make it stop. Near as she could tell, the worst thing about being a teenager was the willingness to wallow in your own angst for weeks at a time, and she was sick of it.

Marnie’s expression hardened as she listened to Sophie listing the virtues of this unnamed paragon. Finally, she broke in, demanding, “Sophie, _who_?”

“Luke.” Sophie looked her sister squarely in the face, her own expression grave. “I think you should take Luke to the prom.”

“You can’t be serious!” said Marnie, staring at her. “He’s--”

“Your friend.”

“But he--”

“Luke’s had a crush on you since the first time we went to Halloweentown. Remember, back when he was working for Kalabar and pretending to be human?”

“Yeah. I also remember that as soon as he _stopped_ trying to look human, he turned right back into a goblin.”

“So after all that talk about equality and coming out of the shadows and us being just like everybody else, you’re telling me that looks are all that matters?”

Marnie stared at her for a moment. “That’s not what I meant!”

“But it’s what you said.”

“I...” Marnie paused. It was true that Luke was a goblin. His skin was lumpy and distinctly greenish, and his hair was a shade of orange that wasn’t normally found in nature. By strictly human standards, he wasn’t very attractive. Of course, she couldn’t really judge him by strictly human standards, and by _goblin_ standards, he was pretty much a hottie.

And it was also true that he’d helped her every time she needed him, even when helping her was dangerous for both of them. He’d even crossed into the human world, something that terrified him, and he’d done it for her.

He was kind and smart and funny, and...

“He really likes me?” she asked, plaintively.

Sophie nodded. “He _really_ likes you. Everyone knows. Even Grandma knows.”

“Grandma?!” Marnie’s eyes went wide. Maybe _that_ was why Agatha had been so against her getting friendly with Cody, back when it was an option. It wasn’t like she was a racist--her own boyfriend was human. It was just that she’d been rooting for Luke all along.

“Yeah. She wasn’t going to tell you, because she said these things always work out better when people figure it out themselves.” A roll of her eyes stated exactly what Sophie thought of _that_ idea. “But you need a date or Mom’s gonna flip out. So I thought I’d go ahead and tell you anyway.”

Marnie sagged, suddenly remembering her mother’s involvement in the situation. “And taking a goblin to the Senior Prom is going to go over much better than not having a date at all?”

“Duh, no one has to _know_ that he’s a goblin if you don’t want them to,” said Sophie, smiling smugly. “Remember the ‘Canadian exchange students’? One little spell and poof! No goblin. Just a guy from another high school who doesn’t know that you’re a witch.”

Marnie gave her a measuring look. “Have you always been this sneaky?”

“I learned from the best.”

“Thanks, Sophie,” said Marnie, sliding off the bed and snagging her hat off the rack. Holding out one hand, she added loudly, “Broom!” The closet door swung open on its own, and the broom flew out, handle smacking into her palm.

“Where are you going?”

“Halloweentown.” Marnie grinned. “I need to go get myself a date for the prom.” She turned and flounced out of the room, slamming the door behind herself.

Slowly, Sophie smiled.

“Took you long enough,” she said.

#

**3: Ordinary Day.**

Dylan Piper looked at the clock on the wall and sighed. Then he looked at the time on his phone and sighed again. School had already been out for more than two hours and the computer club meeting was almost over, but he was pretty sure that Mom and Marnie hadn’t finished yelling at each other yet. Sometimes being the only guy living in a household full of women made it vitally important to know when to duck and cover. Especially when they could start slinging fireballs if they really wanted to.

He’d have had to be stupid not to realize that Marnie and his mother held opposing viewpoints on Grandma Agatha’s return to the family and all the chaos that followed it. Marnie thought it was the best thing ever, but Mom bemoaned the loss of their normal existence. Whatever the Piper family was these days, it wasn’t normal.

“If you’ll all start saving your work and shutting down your computers, we have to clear out of the lab in fifteen minutes,” announced Mr. Fuller, walking down the narrow aisle between the banks of workstations. “Our next meeting will be after school on Wednesday; we have the lab until five...”

Dylan obligingly started shutting down the programs he’d been running, glancing around at the other students as he did. He was willing to bet that none of _them_ needed to worry about their kid sister turning dinner into a frog because she didn’t feel like having meatloaf again, and that _their_ grandmothers didn’t bring live bats to the Halloween party. He was tired of bats. Even if they _were_ sort of cute.

Sometimes being the weird one in the family was absolutely exhausting. If Marilyn Munster weren’t a television character, he’d probably have proposed, just out of solidarity.

“Hey, Piper, you write a spell for getting out of gym class?” called a voice behind him. Dylan didn’t even bother to turn; he just stared at his computer screen, feeling the flush creep up the back of his neck. It wasn’t his fault that his family was different, but he still took the brunt of it. Marnie had her magic, and Sophie didn’t really care what people thought of her. But he...

He just wanted to be normal. Like they were before all the strangeness started, before Marnie and her “exchange students” decided they had the right to out the entire family as freaks and monsters. Maybe he had magic powers and maybe he didn’t, and he really didn’t care either way, because even if he had them, he’d never use them.

He just wanted to be normal.

Snapping his computer hastily off, Dylan ejected the disk that he’d been working on and shoved it into his backpack as he stood.

“See you on Wednesday, Dylan?” called Mr. Fuller.

“Yes, sir,” Dylan said, and rushed for the door. He head the derisive snickering started up behind him, until the door mercifully swung shut and cut it off. He’d always been a geek, and he was okay with that, really; he knew how to deal with being a geek. But after Grandma Agatha came back, he wasn’t just another geek: he was that Piper kid, the one with the weirdo big sister who thought she was--or maybe _really_ was--a witch and the little sister who saw things.

And then the truth about Marnie’s magic came out, and suddenly...yeah. He’d achieved a level of notoriety he never wanted, all by having the bad taste to be related to the Cromwells. If Marnie’s Halloween revelation sophomore year had included the fact that he was technically a warlock, he’d have been dead meat.

He’d endured teasing, having his books stolen and his locker tagged, and for what? So his big sister could prance around pretending that it was cool to be a witch. He was tired of it.

“I just want to be normal again,” he muttered, stalking toward the parking lot. “That’s all. Just normal.”

#

**Interlude: Making Wishes, Part II.**

The crystal flashed again, more brightly this time; when the light faded, it left more of a spark buried in the stone, dancing like a tiny, captive fire. The woman sitting behind the crystal straightened, eyes going wide. “That was the boy. We’ve caught two of them--and in the same day!”

“Don’t get too excited yet. We need them to bring this down on themselves, and that means we need three of them. And the girls...”

“Won’t make that wish as easily as their brother and mother did. I know. They have too much to lose...but still, something will motivate them before the full moon comes. They’re teenagers. They’re bound to wish for an ordinary life at some point; that’s what teenagers _do_ , no matter what world they live in.”

“I hope you’re right. If you’re wrong, all this planning is for nothing.”

“Don’t talk that way,” she snapped, abruptly standing, hands flat against the table. “It _will_ work. We’ll take out all the heirs to the Cromwell line with one simple spell. We’ll turn their own power against them, and you, my love, will be free, and restored to me.”

“Free.” The whispering voice tested the word, turning it over and finding it good. “I’ll be free at last.”

“You’ll be free, and we’ll have our vengeance on that clan of fools.” Smiling, she sat, turning her attention back to the crystal. Two down.

One to go.

#

**4: Halloweentown.**

Marnie slammed the backdoor behind her and jumped off the porch, avoiding the steps completely. Gwen looked out the kitchen window, and sighed. Witch’s hat, red velvet robes, broom--she knew where this was leading.

Once again, her eldest daughter was responding to a problem by taking off for Halloweentown.

“Oh, _Marnie_ ,” she said, shaking her head. “Aren’t you going to learn that sometimes magic doesn’t have all the answers?”

Unfortunately, Gwen already knew the answer to that one. She’d grown up in Halloweentown, after all; she didn’t learn that lesson until the night she met a human man who showed her just how magical a life without magic could be. Marnie was young. It would take time for her to choose a mortal life...if she ever did. Slowly, Gwen was coming to accept that maybe that time would never come. Maybe there would always be Cromwells in Halloweentown.

Outside, the summer air was hot and humid, and the sun was bright enough to make Marnie’s “professional” attire more than a little bit uncomfortable. She cursed the weather, hurrying toward the far corner of the yard. It was always a crisp, comfortable autumn in Halloweentown. The wind never got truly cutting, and the sun never got to be too hot to bear. There were inconveniences, sure, but the weather wasn’t one of them. Even the rain was timed to be soothing and pleasant--there were no unplanned storms in Halloweentown, thanks in part to the efforts of the Cromwells and other witches like them.

Sometimes she honestly didn’t understand how her mother had been able to leave all that behind for the mess and unpredictability of the mortal world.

Leaning her broom against the fence, she gestured imperiously with both hands and started to chant. “I call on the power of creature and mortal to grant the wish that I implore. Though summer is high, now you must grant a portal; do as I ask you, and open the door.” The air shimmered like a heat mirage as a wide archway appeared, revealing the passageway to Halloweentown.

Sure, it was bad poetry, but whatever got the job done.

Grinning to herself, Marnie grabbed her broom and straddled it, kicking off from the ground. The broom rose roughly a foot and half into the air, then hovered in place, waiting for her to guide. Leaning forward, Marnie took hold of the handlebars, and flew through the portal into Halloweentown.

The transition took less than a second, and suddenly the countryside of that eternal October Country--a term she’d filched from the class reading on Ray Bradbury, but it was accurate, it _fit_ \--spooled out underneath her in a patchwork pattern of red, gold and brown. Laughing out loud, she executed a perfect barrel roll in midair.

She wasn’t far outside the town; the houses belonging to Halloweentown’s less social inhabitants were already in view. She could have opened her portal in the town square, but she preferred a little distance, to give herself a few minutes in which to fly. Flight was another thing she was denied in the mortal world, except for a few late-night excursions that she was fairly sure her mother didn’t know about. Fairly. Anyway, if she knew, she hadn’t said anything, and that was good enough for Marnie.

The restrictions might have made sense before people knew she was a witch, but now she knew them for what they were: just another way to make mortality more attractive. As if that could happen. Besides, with all Mom’s rules, how would she ever teach Sophie to fly if they didn’t do it in the mortal world? Sophie was a Cromwell, just like she was. And Cromwells had to fly.

The giant jack-o-lantern that marked the Halloweentown town square was almost directly beneath her now. Swinging her flight pattern around into a descending spiral, Marnie began to descend, dipping lower and lower as she dropped toward the city. The square was as crowded as ever, filled with a mixture of familiar and unfamiliar faces. The familiar outweighed the unfamiliar these days: she’d been spending a lot more time in Halloweentown as the end of the school year got closer.

“Hey, Marnie!” called a trio of ghosts. Grinning, Marnie waved, and dodged to avoid hitting a lumbering forest giant as she made her last loop around the pumpkin.

“Hello, Mister Bonneville! How’s the bone business?” she called, waving to a skeleton in a top hat and tails. He waved back with a sound like castanets rattling. “Hey, Alice!” A teenage yeti flashed a thumbs-up in her direction, and then went back to chatting with a vampire wearing sunglasses and SPF-700.

This was where she belonged; this was Halloweentown. Where the strangest of the strange and the wildest of the weird came to mix and mingle.

Marnie felt right at home.

She landed daintily, hopping off her broom just as it coasted to a stop. She’d been working on her landings lately, and was smugly secure in the knowledge that not even her grandmother could have done it better. “Take _that_ , Mom,” she said, picking up her broom, and started across the square.

Over the last several years she’d come to know the shortcuts and back routes through Halloweentown as well as she knew the ones back in the mortal world. Cutting through the Spooking Goods Store to Lost Lover’s Lane, she hopped over Old Missus Slothwell’s fence and crossed her yard to reach the creek. Sliding down the bank allowed her to use the stepping stones--and one slow turtle--to hop across to the other side.

The rock troll that lived under the All Hallows Bridge raised one stone-colored hand in a slow wave as Marnie passed it, scrambling up the bank to the yard on the other side. Once she had solid ground underneath her, Marnie grinned and waved back. Then she turned to face the house she was standing in front of, and her grin faded as quickly as it had come.

Kalabar’s mansion loomed in front of her like a dark paper cutout against the sky. Even though she knew it was empty, and had been since she discovered her heritage and helped the other Cromwells banish Kalabar from Halloweentown, the house still sent shivers down her spine. Very little in Halloweentown was actually _scary_. The ghosts and goblins were the kind sort, like humans, only different. But Kalabar had been evil, and it sometimes seemed to Marnie that his house remembered its master.

She started to step out into the open, but stopped, frowning as she turned to study the house more carefully. “Something’s not right here,” she said, only half-aware that she was whispering. The shape of the house hadn’t changed. It was still stark, closed and austere, almost a parody of the way the mortal world thought of Halloweentown homes. But something was wrong. The shape of the house had shifted somehow, becoming almost menacing without doing anything to betray exactly what the shift had been.

A raven flashed through the trees above her, croaking raucously. Marnie jumped, unconsciously raising her hands as if facing down a threat. When she saw that it was just a bird--doubtless someone’s familiar, gone off for a little private time--she relaxed, letting her hands drop again.

“Mom’s got me all jumpy,” she said, mostly to herself. The sound of her own voice was soothing, reminding her why she’d come to Halloweentown in the first place. She cast one last, sidelong glance at the house, and then turned, making her way into the trees.

Over the river and through the woods, to Grandmother’s house we go.

#

**5: Family Ties.**

“Grandma?” Marnie pushed open the back door to her grandmother’s house, leaning her broom up against the coat rack. The hallway was dark, dusty and choked with cobwebs. This was nothing new: Grandma Aggie prized herself on cultivation of the thickest, healthiest cobwebs in town, spun by some of the largest, sassiest spiders around. She’d even won an award at the previous year’s Halloweentown Fair.

One of the top arms of the coat rack reached down and removed the hat from Marnie’s head, pulling it neatly up to join the others. She grinned, patting the rack reassuringly. Her own hat rack had been enchanted with a variation of the spell Grandma used, and the two were basically family.

“In here, my darling!” called a familiar, half-dotty voice from the kitchen. “I’m just finishing these pumpkin cakes for the elementary school bake sale. Come in, come in!”

“Grandma!” Grinning, Marnie hurried down the hall and into the kitchen, where Agatha was in the process of moving a hot cupcake pan from the oven to the counter with small, unhurried motions of her wand. Knowing better than to interrupt even a small domestic spell in the middle, Marnie hung back until the pan had settled safely on the counter.

“There; all done,” said Agatha, lowering her wand.

“Grandma,” said Marnie, and stepped forward to embrace her.

“Hello, Marnie,” Agatha said warmly, returning the gesture. “You’re here early--I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.”

“No, Grandma. I’m not here for my lessons.”

“Well, then, to what do I owe the honor of this visit? You’re not in trouble at school again, are you?” Marnie had developed a mild tendency to cast small charms and hexes when she got bored during class. Agatha found it hysterically funny, and a sign of strong magical creativity; Gwen, and the confused teachers who didn’t always understand--or appreciate--a genuine spell when they saw one, found it somewhat less amusing. If it hadn’t been for Agatha’s relationship with the principal, Marnie would probably have been expelled by now.

“No, Grandma, school’s fine, and Mr. Flanagan sends his love,” Marnie said, smiling wryly. “Mom says that I have to go to the Senior Prom.”

“You’re not here to ask me to help you make a duplicate to go in your place, are you? Well, I’m sorry Marnie, but you know I can’t help you deceive your mother while you’re still living at home. What kind of grandmother would I be if I--”

“It’s not that, Grandma.”

“Well, what is it, then?”

“I need a date.” Marnie hurriedly raised her hands. “And I’m not asking you to enchant a frog or anything, Mom already went through that, and I believe in learning from the yucky mistakes of others. I just stopped off to say ‘hey’ before I went off to ask him.”

Agatha was quiet for a moment before she slowly began to smile. “Oh,” she said. “Oh, I see. Do you have any particular strapping young Halloweentown lad in mind? Young Ethan, perhaps? He’s very blond, and a little, well, undistinguished, but I understand he’s a ‘hunk’, in mortal terms...”

“Grandma!” Marnie protested.

“What, darling?” asked Agatha, radiating wounded innocence. “It’s an honest question. Ethan’s a fine young warlock, if a trifle shallow, and as your grandmother, I’d just like to know whether you have someone you’re planning to ask, or if you’re going to be setting up an audition booth in the middle of the square.”

Marnie paused before nodding and offering her grandmother an almost shy little smile. “Yeah. I do sort of have somebody in mind.”

“Mmmm-hmm. And are we planning on dating outside of our species?” Agatha raised a hand at Marnie’s shocked expression, saying, “I have no problems with it at all, Marnie, believe me. It’s just that I’m probably going to have your mother accusing me of subverting you again, and I’d like to have a little warning to prepare my own defense.”

“Right.” Marnie said, looking down. “I guess I am. Planning on dating outside the species, I mean.”

“Luke’s a good boy,” Agatha said, turning to start popping the pumpkin cakes free of their pan. She did this by hand, arranging them artfully on a platter patterned with dancing bats. “Did you figure it out on your own, or did Sophie have to tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

“That he likes you, dear. He’s liked you for ages, really--ever since the first time you came to Halloweentown.” Once the pumpkin cakes were all free of the pan, Agatha waved her hands over them, frosting them in strips of orange and black butter-creme. “I was starting to wonder if you’d ever figure it out. He was depressed for ages over that whole Cody business. Barely tolerable.”

“Sophie told me,” Marnie admitted. “So it’s true? He...he really likes me?” She felt her cheeks reddening for no apparent reason, and shook her head, looking away before her grandmother could see them and make some sly little comment.

Agatha smiled to herself, letting Marnie believe that she’d hidden her blush, and nodded. “Oh, yes, dear. I wish she’d let you figure it out for yourself, but I suppose it’s true that desperate times call for desperate measures--and I’d certainly call a dance at a mortal high school a ‘desperate time’.”

“Do you really think Mom’s going to be mad?” Marnie asked, unable to quite tell whether or not her grandmother was making fun of her. Sometimes it was hard to be sure with Agatha; she was several centuries old, after all, and her sense of humour wasn’t quite in line with the norm.

This time Agatha wore her smile openly, shaking her head. “Marnie, my love, my darling...your mother is going to be so angry you could fry eggs on her forehead. But that’s all right. If she really starts to shout, just remind her of one tiny fact and you can shut her down before she even begins.”

“What’s that?”

“She’s not human either.” Agatha grinned, indicating the cluttered, sweet-smelling kitchen with both hands. “My darling daughter is a Cromwell witch, however much she might like to deny it at times, and--as such--when she fell in love with your father, she was technically dating outside her species. She can’t condemn you for doing the same thing.”

“You’re right.” Marnie beamed, hurrying to throw her arms around her grandmother’s shoulders before running toward the hall. “Thanks Grandma!” she called, as she snagged her hat and broom and hurtled out the back door.

Agatha listened to her footsteps as they faded away, and allowed herself another small smile, shaking her head. “Like mother, like daughter,” she said, and turned back to her baking. “Now where was I...”

#

**6: Invitations.**

Marnie brought her broom to a hasty, somewhat inelegant landing in front of Luke’s house. It was a twisty, knotted little place mostly hidden under the roots of one of Halloweentown’s vast and ancient oak trees, with only the windows and the doorway peeking out. The tree talked, she knew, when given something to talk about, and as she hurried up the path, she thought she head the branches creaking out, ‘Hello, Marnie Cromwell.’

“Hello, Mister Oak!” she called upward, just in case, and knocked briskly on the door. The sound echoed, betraying how much space was actually on the other side. Goblins apparently didn’t have to obey the laws of physics in their house design. Marnie stepped back, waiting.

It wasn’t a long wait. A crashing sound from inside was accompanied by Luke’s voice saying, “Just a second!” a moment before a familiar gray-green hand pulled the door open. He paused, blinking. “Uh. Hey.”

“Hello, Luke,” Marnie said, and flashed him her best five-dollar smile.

If there was any question about whether or not Luke actually liked her the way Grandma and Sophie seemed to think he did, that smile answered it. His ears and cheeks darkened as he stopped for a moment, apparently struck silent by her expression, before he smiled back and stammered, “Mar...Marnie! I wasn’t expecting you.”

“That would be because I kinda didn’t tell you I was coming,” she replied. “Can I come in?”

“Well, it’s sort of...I mean, the house is a...sure.” He stepped out of the way, letting her pass.

Inside, the small house was a cluttered welter of boxes, papers and unrecognizable debris. It was nowhere near as bad as Gort’s place, which was intentionally disgusting; it was just messy, like Luke didn’t take the time to clean up very often. It smelled of old papers, and freshly fallen leaves.

Marnie looked around, saying, “Wow, Luke...you’ve had an avalanche.” She indicated a pile of fallen papers.

“Yeah. I was trying to clean the bookshelf, and things slipped.” He shrugged, closing the door, and asked, “What brings you by? Some great evil brewing? All the life being sucked out of Halloweentown? Need to fly through a hole in time and make me seasick?” He sounded almost hopeful.

“It’s nothing like that,” Marnie said, turning to study a vast, dust-encrusted china cabinet. “I just needed to ask you for a teeny-tiny little favor, that’s all.”

“Favor?” Luke asked, more warily. “What _kind_ of favor?” If there was one thing he’d learned from regular exposure to the Cromwells, it was that ‘teeny-tiny little favors’ generally weren’t. In fact, they were usually just the opposite. “Is it the kind of favor that gets me dead?”

“Well, there’s this--hey, have you washed this?”

“Yes, I scrubbed it last week. There’s this what, exactly? Dragon? Evil warlock? Perilous quest that doesn’t match your dress? What do you need me to do?”

“There’s this dance at my school,” Marnie said, forcing the words out in a rush. If she hesitated, she knew she’d never finish.

Luke froze. “A...dance.”

“Yes.”

“At your school.”

“Yeah.” Marnie kept her eyes on the china cabinet, seemingly enthralled the contents of its topmost shelf. “It’s my Senior Prom, and Mom says I have to go. It’s sort of a rite of passage for mortal girls, I guess. They made a lot of movies about it. Pretty lousy ones, mostly, but she has a thing.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“I need a date.”

“You want me to help you find a date?” Luke couldn’t quite keep the hurt out of his voice, no matter how hard as he tried. “I don’t know, Marnie, I don’t really know how to shop for human guys. Or where to find them. Maybe if you asked Natalie...”

“I don’t want you to _find_ me a date. I want you to _be_ my date.” She could practically hear Luke stiffening behind her. Keeping her eyes turned resolutely forward, she continued, “If you won’t go with me, I’ll just have to take whatever guy in my school is willing to go with me. And by now it’s all tweaks, geeks and Chess Club members. That whole ‘witch’ thing is sort of social suicide in the mortal world.”

Slowly, Luke said, “I’ve never even _been_ to your school, Marnie.”

“I know.” She looked back over her shoulder at him, frowning a little. “I was actually really surprised when you didn’t come with the others. I sort of expected you to be there.”

“I didn’t get my papers turned in on time,” said Luke, looking up toward the rafters so that he wouldn’t accidentally glance toward his bed. The enrollment papers for the exchange program were there, stuffed into a shoebox and shoved under the mattress, along with the drop form he’d filled out when he finally lost his nerve. He couldn’t face Marnie’s world, and her, knowing he could never have her. Not with that many of his peers around. Because they’d have caught him, without a doubt; caught him, and told Marnie how he felt.

And look what holding back had done: it got Marnie a human boyfriend, and now she’d never look at him twice. Humans stuck to their own kind, and Marnie, for all that she was half-witch, looked like a human. Natalie had told him _all_ about the Cromwell preferences after her own disastrous flirtation with Dylan.

“Oh,” said Marnie, looking disappointed. She turned back toward the china cabinet.

“Besides, what about Cody? Isn’t he supposed to take you to these things?”

“We broke up,” Marnie said, with a small shake of her head. “A while ago, actually. His parents didn’t approve of him dating a freak.”

“Oh,” said Luke, trying to keep the pleasure out of his voice. Friends shouldn’t be happy when their friends get dumped, right? Then: “So you need a date. Are you sure you mean _me_?”

“Well, yeah,” Marnie said, peering into one of the jars on the shelf. Something in the murk inside wriggled, and she backed away. “You’re my friend, and you’re a boy. That means you fit all the essential requirements for a prom date.”

What little hope Luke had been starting to muster came crashing down. “Yeah. I’m your friend. But I’m also a goblin, Marnie.”

“One little spell and we won’t have to worry about it--you can look human for the night,” said Marnie, turning to face him. She felt oddly bad saying that out loud; the memory of Sophie saying “So you’re telling me that looks are all that matters?” suddenly seemed unaccountably immediate.

Luke stared at her. “Let me get this straight. You want me to pretend to be your boyfriend for the night, so that you can get out of dating some stupid human boy?” He sounded oddly frustrated, and almost angry.

“Yes. I mean, no. I mean...” Marnie sighed as she turned to face him. “I mean, Luke, that I’d really appreciate it if you’d come to the prom and be my date.”

“Because you can’t get a human boy,” he countered.

Marnie paused for a moment, surprised by the depth of her own hurt at his words. Then she shook her head, starting to storm toward the door. “Whatever. Never mind, it was a bad idea. I should never have bothered--”

“Wait!” Luke said, holding up his hand. “I didn’t say I wouldn’t go.”

“You didn’t?” she asked, stopping where she was.

“No. I was just...surprised. You’re sure you can keep an illusion spell on me all night?” Luke twisted his hands together, watching her carefully. _Are you sure you want to do this, Marnie? If you want to back out, do it now._

“Yeah. I’m sure.” Marnie smiled, half-shyly. “I’ve gotten lots better in the last few years. I can get you to the mortal world, dress you up, and get you home afterward without anyone being the wiser.”

Luke took a deep breath, and nodded. “All right. I’ll go, because it’s a favor for you. But you make one goblin joke--just one--and the deal’s off. You got it?”

“I got it!” Darting forward, Marnie kissed him on the cheek and ran for the door. “I’ve got to go start getting things ready--I’ll call you on the head phone just as soon as I know what time I’ll be picking you up. And thank you!”

“Marnie--” She was out the door and back on her broom before he could do more than say her name. Luke watched her go, raising one hand to touch the place where she had kissed him, then walked forward to close the door that she’d left so carelessly ajar.

“High school dance,” he said to himself. “Human world.” Then he grinned. “I’m better than the mortal boys. Go, me.”

Outside, heading back toward the portal to the mortal world, Marnie executed a perfect aerial barrel roll and flew, laughing, homeward.

#

**8: Revelations.**

The portal to Halloweentown was swirling closed as Marnie touched down lightly in the backyard, sliding off of her broom. Gwen watched through the kitchen window, putting down her coffee and sitting up straighter in her chair as she prepared herself for the projection of parental authority.

“You’re the mother here, Gwen,” she said. “You can do this.”

The screen door slammed open less than a minute later, and Marnie came racing into the kitchen, cheeks bright with excited color.

“We need to talk,” they said, in unison. There was a brief pause, and then Gwen smiled, shaking her head. “Come on, kiddo. Sit down. We need to have a little chat.”

“Is it about the prom?” Marnie asked, as she dropped herself onto one of the kitchen chairs and waved a hand toward the cookie jar. It opened, and a fresh gingersnap floated out. “Now what? Do I have to wear pink taffeta? Because I can handle the ‘no black’ clause, but I draw the line at taffeta.”

Gwen waved her own hand, and the cookie floated back into the jar. “Actually, Marnie, that’s part of what I wanted to talk to you about. You can’t be so negative about the whole idea, sweetie. It’s something you should _want_ to do.”

“And if I won’t ‘want’ to do it all on my own, you’ll find a way to _make_ me ‘want’ to do it, right?” Marnie asked, as she stood and walked over to the cookie jar, taking out the gingersnap again, this time in a more mundane fashion. “I know the game. Mother knows best.”

“Marnie--”

“It’s cool, it’s cool.” Marnie held up her hands, turning toward the fridge. “I need milk. Look, I know I have to go to the dance, okay? I am resigned. And serene. Resigned and serene, that’s me. I was thinking blue for my dress, maybe? Or burgundy? I refuse to be seen in public wearing pastels. Not even for a ‘normal human high school experience’.”

“Fair enough,” Gwen allowed, and smiled. “I think we can compromise on dark purple?”

“Red.”

“Blue.”

“Fine, purple.” They smiled at each other, both aware that it was a purely symbolic victory on Gwen’s part. One tiny spell after the dress was paid for and Marnie would be dressed to kill in whatever color she chose.

“You’ll need a date, of course. Have you thought about asking Jonathan from down the street? I ran into his mother at the grocery store the other day, and she said he hadn’t asked anyone yet.”

“Mother, _please_. He breathes through his mouth. I may be a social outcast, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go to the prom with a mouth-breather. There are some depths to which even I refuse to sink.”

“How about Mike, then?”

“He has a date. Has had a date since we were sophomores. He and Janice are joined at the hip, and you’d need a hacksaw to get them apart. Plus, his parents are very anti-witchcraft. They’d send a priest instead of a limo, and I’m anti-exorcism.”

“You could ask Thomas.”

“He’s skipping the prom as a form of political protest.”

“Well, then, you could ask Bobby--don’t you like Bobby? I thought you had a crush on him.”

“Firstly, that was in the third grade, when my taste in men ran toward those individuals capable of eating Sophie’s bodyweight in paste. Secondly, he’s gay. He’s taking Peter from bio.”

“Oh.” Gwen paused, baffled by Marnie’s casual dismissal of half the boys in her class. For a moment, she wondered if maybe her daughter’s refusal to just live her life like a normal person had infected her entire generation. “Well, what about John? The one from your algebra class?”

“John’s nice, sure, but, um. Actually, Mom, I already have a date.” Marnie straightened in her seat, trying to project an air of studious innocence. It wasn’t working. She knew it wasn’t working.

And yet Gwen seemed to be buying at anyway. “You already have a date? With a boy?” When Marnie nodded a cautious affirmation, she broke into a wide grin. “Why didn’t you say so, sweetie? Who is it? Timothy? Oh, I know--Chris, from your drama class?”

“Um, well. He doesn’t exactly go to my school.”

“Hang on a second. Do I know this boy?” Gwen frowned. “He isn’t a college boy, is he? Because you know how I feel about girls your age dating college boys...”

“No, he’s, um, actually not enrolled in any school right now.” Before her mother could protest, she hurriedly added, “He’s my age, he’s just not exactly the scholastic type.”

“Marnie Piper...” Gwen said, standing and fixing her eldest daughter with an unwavering eye. “What aren’t you telling me? I know this boy, don’t I?”

“You’ve met him.”

“What’s his name?”

Sighing under her breath, Marnie replied, “Luke.” Then she braced herself, waiting for the inevitable parental explosion.

She didn’t have very long to wait. “ _What_?” Gwen demanded, eyes widening. “Marnie, you can’t--you can _not_ be serious! Luke isn’t even human! Do you not _understand_ that? He’s a goblin! A Halloweentown goblin, and I somehow don’t think I really need to _remind_ you that he isn’t going to be exactly a _normal_ sight at a high school prom! Maybe-- _maybe_ \--at a Halloween party, but--”

“You’re not human either, Mom. And neither am I. And the whole school knows that, so I don’t know why you’re freaking out about it.” Now that the words were out, Marnie found herself strangely calm--almost serene. “I’m taking Luke to the prom.”

Gwen rocked back on her heels, stunned. “Marnie, how can you even say such a thing?”

“Because it’s true. I’m half-human, because of who Daddy was, but the other half of me is pure Cromwell witch--like you. I know you want me to be normal. I know you just want us to have the chance at having real human lives. But I don’t _want_ a real human life, Mom. I want to inherit the Cromwell family powers, and live in Halloweentown, and be happy.”

“And take Luke to the prom,” Gwen said, flatly.

Marnie nodded. “And take Luke to the prom. Yes. Because unlike the boys at my high school, who treat me like a total freak, he actually acts like I’m already a real person. Broomstick and all.”

“I...” Gwen paused. “If I finish that statement, I’ll have officially turned into my mother.”

“Huh?”

“What, you think your grandmother approved when I told her that I wasn’t coming back to Halloweentown because I was going to stay here on earth and marry a mortal?” Gwen’s smile was wry. “Please. She was _livid_. Said that it would never come to any good, and I’d be crawling back as soon as it was Halloween again.”

“But she was wrong,” Marnie said. “You and Daddy loved each other.”

“Yes, we did,” Gwen said, and sighed. “You’ve made your point, Marnie. You can take Luke to the prom if you really want to -- but he’s _going_ to wear a disguise spell the whole time, and there will be _no_ funny business. Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” said Marnie, beaming. “Thanks, Mom. You’re the best.” She bounced to her feet, wrapping her arms around her mother, and hugged her tightly. After a moment’s startled pause, Gwen hugged her back.

“Go on, you. I’m sure you have homework.”

For once, Marnie didn’t argue: she just grinned. “Okay!” she called, and bounded off toward her room, snagging her broom from its place against the counter as she pelted up the stairs.

Gwen watched her go, feeling somewhat like she had just been hit by a very clever, extremely teenaged freight train. “Oh, Mom,” she said. “If I’d been half that good at playing you, I’d have left Halloweentown years before I did.”

Then she laughed, and got up to lock the back door.

#

**8: Dress-Up Games.**

The weeks before the prom passed quickly for Marnie, although not as quickly for Dylan and Sophie, who had to endure her endless complaints about finding a dress and fixing her hair.

“I don’t understand why you can’t use magic,” Dylan said, for the tenth time. Marnie had drafted him to hold her makeup kit while she tried design after design with her eyeliner. As far as he was concerned, they all looked absolutely ridiculous. Not that he could tell her that: she’d stopped listening.

“Mom wants me to do this like a normal human girl,” Marnie said, scrubbing at a streak of green eyeliner that was refusing to come off her cheek. “I’m just trying to do what she wants.”

“You’re taking a goblin to the prom,” Dylan pointed out. “That’s not exactly part of the ‘normal human girl’ package.”

“And that’s why I’m not pushing it. Do you think I should try the purple eyeliner again?”

“I think you should let me go and do my geology homework, if you’re actually asking for my opinion.”

“Don’t worry,” Marnie said, smiling at him as she dug her hand into the makeup kit. “I’m not.”

Dylan groaned. “Marnie...”

“It’s just three more days, Dylan,” Marnie said, suddenly serious. “Mom really wants me to do this. _I’m_ starting to really want to do this. Can you just put up with me for a little bit longer? Please? You won’t ever have to help me get ready for the prom again.”

He looked at her for a moment before he sighed, nodding. “All right. Don’t sulk, I’ll help.” He paused. “I think you should try the darker purple. That color doesn’t go with your dress.”

“You’re my best brother,” Marnie said, kissing him on the cheek, and resumed her rummaging through the box.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, and smiled.

Sometimes being part of the weirdest family on the block wasn’t so bad after all.

#

**Interlude: Making Wishes, Part III.**

“He can’t take it back, can he?” asked the voice from the shadows, turning cold.

“No, my lord,” replied the woman, her eyes not leaving the crystal. “Not unless he says it aloud--and he won’t. He’s too proud of being the white sheep in their little flock of nightmares. Even if he fell in love with what he is, he’d never say it.”

“So we wait?”

“We wait. It won’t be long now. We only need one more--and this dance may well provide the chance that we’ve been waiting for. After all, what teenage girl wants to be ‘the strange one’ on a night when everyone she’s ever met is watching?” Something twitched in the darkness behind her, making a sound like the rustling of dead or dying leaves. “It won’t be long now at all. Just wait, and be patient.”

“I’m tired of patience.”

“Just wait.”

#

**9: The Big Night.**

“Stop pacing, you’ll mess up your hair,” Sophie commanded. She was perched on the edge of the bed, staying well out of range of any fits Marnie might happen to throw.

“That’s easy for you to say--you don’t have to go to this thing!” Marnie shook her head. Contrary to Sophie’s dire predictions, her hair remained sleek and perfectly groomed, tamed by a combination of the crown braid that held it back from her face and a very careful, very subtle stasis spell. For all that she had tried to avoid using magic to get herself ready, she was still going to have to go to Halloweentown to pick up Luke, and crossing dimensional barriers could really mess with your hair.

“Oh, please. Mom’s going to make me go too, when it’s time for my senior year. I think it’ll be kind of fun!”

“Let me cast a disguise spell on you. You can go now!”

Sophie shook her head. “No, thanks. Luke’s _your_ date, and you can keep him.”

“Who thinks looks are all that matter now?” Marnie asked, amused enough to stop pacing and start tightening the laces that ran down the bodice of her dress. The prom gown she and her mother had compromised on was sleeveless, with laced closures on both the back and front, made from wine colored satin that seemed to be either red or purple, depending on the light. The skirts brushed the ground when she moved, covering her plain black shoes.

She had to admit, for a woman completely fixated on raising three half-witch children like they were exactly the same as everybody else, her mom had pretty good taste in prom dresses.

“I didn’t say that,” Sophie said, wrinkling her nose. “I just said I didn’t want Luke. He’s too old. And he likes you too much. I don’t want to go to my prom with someone who’s just going to spend all his time wishing that I was you.”

Marnie paused, looking at Sophie. Sophie looked back, offering her older sister a small, wry smile. Finally, Marnie asked, “When did you start paying so much attention to everything that happened around this place?”

“I always have,” Sophie said, smile becoming an open grin. “You’re the one that doesn’t pay attention. Maybe I’ll find a goblin of my own someday, or a nice warlock or something. But I don’t want _yours_.”

“You know, you’re pretty cool, for a little sister.”

“I try,” Sophie replied.

Marnie tied the last of her laces and picked up the spider-web patterned shawl that she’d bought to go with the dress, draping it over her shoulders. It had almost been too ‘witchy’ for Gwen to approve of it, but even she’d had to admit that the darker burgundy of the spider-web lace was a perfect contrast to the rest of Marnie’s gown. A normal girl would have worn it because it was lovely. In the end, she’d agreed to let Marnie wear it for the same reason.

“How do I look?” she asked, spreading her arms.

Sophie studied her for a moment, speculatively, and then smiled. “I think Luke’s going to think he’s the luckiest goblin ever,” she said.

“Do you really think so?” Marnie picked up a narrow burgundy choker with strings of silver chain looped around the bottom, fastening it behind her neck, and gave herself an anxious look in the mirror. “Does this color make me look too pale? He’s going to think I look dead. Do I look dead?”

“He’s a goblin. He’d like you even if you looked dead. Zombie girls get dates too.”

“Do I not look dead enough? Maybe he’ll think I look too alive!”

“He’s Luke. He’ll like you because you’re you. Does being a teenager melt your brain?” Sophie hopped off the bed, crossing the room to grab Marnie’s wrist and usher her toward the door. “Come on. You need to go show Mom your dress, or she’s going to come up here looking for us.”

As if on cue, Gwen’s voice called up from below, “Marnie?”

“Coming, Mom!” Marnie shouted, automatically. She gave Sophie a dirty look. “I’m telling Mom you’re using suggestion spells on her again.”

“Can’t prove it,” Sophie said, smugly unrepentant. “Besides. You’re gonna be late if you don’t head for Halloweentown soon.”

Groaning, Marnie allowed herself to be led down the stairs to where Gwen waited with her camera. After the sixth picture, she put her hands up, trying to ward the flash away. “Enough! Jeez, Mom, you’d think I’d never worn a dress before.”

“You look wonderful.” Gwen paused, frowning slightly. “Is that a stasis spell in your hair?”

“Just until I pick Luke up. I’ll take it off for the dance.” Catching Gwen’s warning look, Marnie held up a finger. “I wouldn’t _need_ a stasis spell if I didn’t need to go to Halloweentown to get my date. So it’s still normal as long as it’s gone before we get to the prom.”

Gwen subsided, smiling. “All right, you win. Now, you’ll be back by midnight, right?”

“Yes, Mom. We’ll come here before I take Luke home, so you can see that we made curfew. All right?”

“All right.” Gwen smiled again. “You really do look beautiful.”

“Thanks, Mom. Bye, brat.” She stuck her tongue out at Sophie, who returned the gesture in kind, and grabbed her broom from the umbrella stand as she headed for the back door.

It really was a beautiful night.

And it was just getting started.

#

**10: Limo Service.**

Luke was already waiting outside when Marnie glided to a stop and landed in front of his house. The dress she was wearing necessitated a somewhat awkward sidesaddle method of riding, but it wasn’t so bad once she got airborne--and it definitely allowed for making a dramatic entrance.

She slid easily off the broom, catching her skirt on one heel and stumbling as her feet hit the ground. Sensibly writing off her entrance as a loss, she traded drama for a casual wave, calling, “Hey, Luke!”

He didn’t reply; in a very real sense, he didn’t even hear her. He was too busy staring.

The moonlight painted her burgundy dress a simple, rich shade of red, and her shoulders were covered by a slightly darker panel of spider-web lace that lead naturally upward to the night-bleached white of her face and neck. The pinned and stasis-locked coils of her hair gleamed like polished wood, catching small sparks in the darkness. Even stumbling and clutching her broom with one hand as she waved, he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.

“Hey?” she repeated, waving a little harder. “Earth to Luke, come in Luke. You okay?”

“Y-yeah,” he stammered. _She’s here to tell me that it was all a mistake,_ he thought, helplessly. _There is absolutely no way she’s going to stand there, looking like that, and tell me that she actually wants me to go to this dance with her. No way. I’m doomed._

“You ready to go?”

“What?”

Marnie eyed him, half-smiling to hide her own sudden and undeniable anxiety. He wasn’t acting like he was very glad to see her. “Are you okay? You’re acting weird.” _Oh, jeez, I was right; he wants a zombie girl or something, and I look too stupid and too mortal in this dress, he’s trying to get out of it..._

“I’m...”

“Look, if you don’t want to go, that’s okay,” she said, cringing inwardly. “I mean, I know you probably have better things to do than go to some stupid dance in the mortal world. So you don’t have to. If you really don’t want to, I mean.”

Luke couldn’t help himself. “If _I_ don’t want to?” he exclaimed. “I mean, you’re--you look--I mean, wow. How could I not want to go? I thought you weren’t going to want to go with me.”

“Of course I want to go with you,” Marnie said. Luke brightened, until she continued, “It’s way too late to get another date.” _Not that I want another date,_ she thought. _But I can’t say that..._

“Oh,” he said. “Guess we should get me ready, huh?”

“Yeah. We need to get going.” Marnie studied the jeans and somewhat tattered flannel shirt that he was wearing. She knew him well enough to see that he was clearly making an effort: Luke had never really cared all that much about his clothing. Normally, neither did she--magic took care of keeping her in clean robes and interesting jewelry. The day-to-day stuff just didn’t matter.

Maybe they had even more in common than she’d originally thought.

“Is this okay?” Luke asked, unaccountably nervous. It was just a dance. That was all. It didn’t _mean_ anything...

And she was still the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. Maybe he was weird for liking a witch better than any of the goblin girls he knew, but Marnie was different. Sure, she had that weird pale skin, but so did a lot of zombie girls, and her hair was no straighter or browner than a dryad’s. Most importantly, Marnie was herself, and that was what really made it so impossible for him to tell her “no.”

“It won’t work for the prom,” Marnie said, critically, “but it’s a good place to start. Close your eyes.”

Luke obeyed. Raising her hands, Marnie gave him another contemplative look.

“Are you sure you want to do this?”

Luke opened his eyes. “What?” he asked, sounding almost panicky.

“Be...not you. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Luke nodded, firmly. “If I’m a goblin, I can’t go to your dance.”

_But I like the way you really are..._ “All right. Close your eyes again.”

Luke did just that.

“Now hang on,” she said, “this may feel a little funny. Keep your eyes closed.”

Clothes-changing magic was usually practiced on the self, but in theory, it could work on anyone. She’d done it often enough to get ready for school on days when she was running late; this was just applying what she already knew to an outside subject.

Suddenly, she wished she’d asked Dylan to help with more than just applying her makeup. It would have been nice to know that what she was attempting was actually going to work.

“Atole!” she said, sharply. The air around Luke glimmered, but his clothes remained the same. Frowning, she repeated, “Atole!”

This time the spell was answered by a bright spray of red and silver sparks, and Luke was abruptly dressed for the occasion in an obviously rented tuxedo, complete with cummerbund and slightly off-kilter bow tie. Marnie grinned. The sight of a goblin in full formal wear--even rumpled high school-standard formal wear--wasn’t one that she was going to forget any time soon.

“Did it work?” Luke asked.

“Don’t open your eyes yet.” It was almost a pity he’d have to seem to be a human for the dance; she liked the way he looked in that tuxedo, even with his fluffy orange hair ratted out goblin-style in all directions. Looks definitely weren’t everything--but oddly, she was starting to realize that his looks weren’t all that bad. Not human...but not bad.

“Okay,” Luke said, and was still.

Raising her hands, Marnie said, more softly, “Atole var.”

The glitter was silver and green this time, and hung in the air for a longer while, working at the seemingly impossible task of making a human teenager from a Halloweentown goblin. But when it was done, Luke had been replaced by the seemingly human boy that Marnie remembered from her visit to Grandma Aggie’s house. Nothing remained to reveal him for what he really was. He was just normal.

Oddly, Marnie found that a little bit depressing. Maybe because it also brought back memories of the first time Luke had seen the mortal world, when a cruel spell had turned all of Halloweentown’s creatures human--for real. By destroying what made them special and unique, that spell had nearly stolen them from her forever. “You can open your eyes now. It’s done.”

“Really?” Luke opened his eyes and looked down, studying his suddenly pink-skinned hands. “Wicked. How long will this last?”

“Until midnight--the whole ‘Cinderella clause’ is standard operating procedure,” Marnie said. “The clock strikes twelve, you’re a goblin again. Which is fine, because we should be back at my place by then anyway. I have a curfew.”

Luke grinned. “A Cromwell witch with a curfew. Who’d have thought?”

“My mother, for one. Come on.” Marnie turned before he could see her smile, heading back to her broom. “We need to get to the dance before it’s time to bring you home.”

“Right. The broom thing. Goodie.” Luke followed, watching somewhat dubiously as she slid into a sidesaddle position at the front of the broom. “Are you sure you won’t fall off riding like that?”

“I fell off _once_ , and that was a year ago. You’ll be fine. Now get on the broom.”

Luke slid gingerly onto the broom behind her, clenching his knees together and locking his arms around her waist. He liked witches. He liked Marnie.

He hated flying.

“Not so tight, Luke, unless you want to show up for the dance with a dead date.” When his grip relaxed--only marginally--Marnie grinned and pushed them off the ground. “Come on, don’t be so nervous. It’s gonna be a great night.”

As they rose into the Halloweentown sky, Luke’s arms still locked unbudging around her waist, she realized that she actually meant it. It was going to be a great night. She had a date, she had a dress, and somewhere along the line, she’d started looking forward to the prom.

The portal back to the mortal world blossomed in front of them, and grinning, she dove through.

#

**11: Lose Your Own Head.**

They drifted to a gentle landing behind the trees that flanked the school, Marnie sliding off the broom and gripping the handle loosely in one hand as she waited for Luke to dismount. He did so hurriedly, almost staggering as he got his feet back underneath himself.

Marnie grinned. “You’re lucky you’re not a witch,” she said, teasing. “You’d fail all your flying lessons.”

“Yeah, well, see how you do underground,” Luke muttered. “Claustrophobic witches don’t get along with our tunnels.”

“I’m not claustrophobic, but you have a point there.” She leaned her broom against the nearest tree, muttering a disguise spell under her breath and giving a dismissive wave of one hand. The air around the broom shimmered, and then solidified, leaving nothing visible but the tree itself. The broom was still there; they’d have a way to get home. It was just conveniently invisible.

“Nice trick.”

“Saves on parking. Also on awkward explanations and people playing keep-away.”

“Oh, right. Witches aren’t standard here.” Luke shook his head. “That’s just so weird.”

“Tell me about it. I keep having to remember that things work differently here, which is why I’m a freak, instead of being the natural heir to a powerful magical heritage.” Marnie turned back toward him, smiling a small, oddly shy smile. Luke found himself blushing as he smiled back at her, once more aware of just how pretty she was in the moonlight.

_That’s right,_ he thought. _I have now managed to look more clueless than ever before. Go me._ “So.”

“So.”

“Now what?”

“We could go to the dance...?” _That’s supposedly why we’re here..._

“Oh. Uh, yeah.” Luke hesitated, then, slowly, offered her his arm. “I think I’m supposed to be your escort, right?”

Marnie felt herself blushing in return as she slid her arm through his, but nodded, answering, “That’s the usual way we do this sort of thing, yeah.”

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.” He paused. “Which way?”

“I’ll lead,” Marnie said, and grinned. After a moment, Luke grinned back, the tension broken as he let her guide him onto the school grounds and into the brightly lit and decorated gym. Then he stopped, staring.

The one time he’d visited the mortal world before, it had been Halloween night, and a costume party had been in full swing; he remembered looking out on the laughing, costumed crowd and wondering what all the fuss was about. They didn’t seem all that different from the people he knew back in Halloweentown. A little less used to ghoulies and ghosties and long-legged beasties and things that went bump in the night, sure, but basically still the same sort of people.

This, though...this was very, very different. And for a moment, he wasn’t sure how well he was going to deal.

A sign by the door said that the theme of the prom was ‘Some Enchanted Evening’. If this was an enchantment, it wasn’t like one that he’d ever seen before. White crepe and strings of silver foil ran down the walls in glittery waterfalls, and white-branched trees were everywhere, creating a maze that lead out to the dance floor and buffet table.

Small, twinkling white lights were strung along the walls and through the branches of the trees, providing the room’s only real illumination. He squinted, trying to figure out what they were. Maybe they’d trapped pixies inside the glass...? Only he was pretty sure they didn’t actually have pixies here, in this world without magic. He’d have to ask Marnie when he was sure that no one else was listening. He didn’t want to embarrass her--or himself.

There were mortals everywhere, the girls wearing dresses like Marnie’s--although most of _them_ were in pinks or yellows, not her reassuringly dark burgundy--and the guys wearing rented tuxedos much like the one that she’d conjured up for him. This was what they looked like without magic. They looked like her.

He stole a glance back at Marnie, who was passing two rectangular pieces of paper to the woman sitting behind the desk by the door. The woman glanced at them, then Marnie, asking, “Your date is Luke Smith? Is he a senior?”

“He goes to Hillside,” Marnie said. “I filed the permission slips to bring a date from another school.”

“Did you?” The woman frowned, starting to ruffle through the papers in front of her. “I thought I’d already passed out all the visitor’s tickets...”

“Uh-huh.” Marnie made a small gesture with one hand, and Luke saw a sheet of paper materialize to by the woman’s left elbow. No one else seemed to have noticed the trick; in a world where magic isn’t standard, people just seemed to stop watching for it, even when they knew that there was a witch in their midst. Marnie pointed. “Isn’t that it right over there?”

“What--oh, yes. There it is.” The woman picked up the paper, squinting at it, then accepted Marnie’s tickets with a rueful smile. “I’d probably leave my head lying on the corner somewhere, if it wasn’t sewn on.”

“Actually, that doesn’t happen as often as you’d think,” Marnie said offhandedly, not thinking about it.

“What?”

Marnie winced. “Nothing. Thanks, Ms. Miller.” She accepted their checked-off tickets, grabbed Luke’s hand, and hauled him into the maze of white-lighted trees.

“Does her head come off?” Luke asked, bemused.

“No, that’s just a turn of phrase,” Marnie replied. “I took her too literally.”

“Oh.” He thought about that for a moment, then added, “Too bad. I mean, I could understand if her head came off. But it doesn’t make sense if it doesn’t.”

Marnie stopped, squinting at him. “Are you making fun of me?” she demanded.

“What?” Luke felt himself rapidly losing his place in the conversation. Marnie didn’t look happy. He wanted Marnie to stay happy, and now she didn’t look happy, and that meant he’d said something wrong. _The only thing more confusing than girls,_ he thought, somewhat sourly, is girl witches.

“I said, ‘are you making fun of me?’”

Luke stared at her for a moment. Then finally, desperately, he ventured, “No?”

“Oh,” Marnie said. Then, more slowly, she asked, “Do you want to dance?”

Luke smiled brightly, and followed her out onto the dance floor. Marnie wasn’t mad at him. Everything was going to be okay.

He just hoped that she knew how to dance.

#

**12: Some Enchanted Evening.**

Once the dance had actually started, it was surprisingly painless. Marnie kept expecting something to go wrong--that Luke would say something in the hearing of her classmates and they’d somehow realize he was the goblin they’d seen at that traumatic, transformational Halloween party, or that she’d make another careless comment and set him off, or that evil wizards would attack--but after a while, she just started to relax. It was a beautiful night. The decorations committee hadn’t quite been able to hide the fact that they were all gathered in the school gym, but they’d done an excellent job of faking it. The other kids were whispering behind their hands, but she’d learned to mostly ignore them, and she wasn’t about to let them ruin her prom.

It was a beautiful night.

Luke wasn’t entirely surprised to discover that Marnie didn’t know how to dance either; after all, there was little call for two-stepping in Halloweentown. On the other hand, most of the prom seemed to be in the same boat. When fast songs came on they stood there and thrashed rhythmically, and during the slow songs, they held each other and swayed. So far, they’d only done the fast dances together--every time the music slowed, Marnie grabbed his hand and dragged him toward the buffet, or over to examine some small point of the decorations.

He was oddly reassured to see that she was still paying that much attention to him, although he was starting to wish that they could do one of those slow dances. Just for a little while.

Marnie’s classmates had been a bit of a surprise. He’d always known that Marnie and her family were, well, different by human standards; after all, they were the newest generation of Cromwell witches, a fact that made them just short of royalty in some circles of the Halloween world. In a way, he’d always assumed that would just...spill over to their lives in the mortal world. Maybe they wouldn’t be completely normal there, but of course they’d be well liked and respected.

Instead, he saw the looks on people’s faces as Marnie walked past with him, and look on hers as she tried devotedly not to meet their eyes. They looked at her--and by association, him--like they were waiting for something to happen that they could laugh at. He was starting to get the idea that maybe Marnie had reasons for not wanting to stay among the humans any longer than she had to.

Maybe it _was_ possible for a Cromwell witch to know what it felt like to be a freak.

He considered this idea as they found a table in a secluded corner of the gym and Marnie went to get them each a glass of punch. He’d been regarding this “date” as a combination of pity and necessity; she needed someone to go with her, and he was the first one she’d thought of. It hadn’t bothered him all that much--after all, no matter _why_ she was doing it, being her date had still allowed him to pretend he was there because she really liked him. She was pretty and smart and powerful and a Cromwell witch, and he was just, well, Luke.

Only with the way her classmates looked at her, and the way she looked at him, maybe it was something more. Maybe she was actually here with him because she _wanted_ to be, not because he was the easiest option. He turned to watch her pouring punch into paper cups, and frowned, speculatively.

If Marnie knew what it was like to be a freak, and had asked him anyway, what did that mean?

Holding a glass of punch in each hand, Marnie walked back across the gym floor toward Luke. He was watching her, a pensive expression on his face and his weight mostly resting on one elbow. She wondered what he was thinking about. _He’d probably rather be here with a zombie girl,_ she thought again, anxiously. _Or a goblin, or_ something _that didn’t look so dull and boring and...and human. This was a stupid idea._

She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts that she didn’t see the boys closing in around her until her route to the table was completely blocked off. She stopped, blinking, as she looked around herself.

“Excuse me, please, I was trying to get by,” she said, automatically.

“If it isn’t little Marnie Piper, all dressed up like a normal girl,” said the tallest of them--Mike, one of her mother’s suggested dates. She wondered dimly where Janice was, and then decided that he’d probably left her giggling with the other girls when he went off to harass the class weirdo.

_Lucky me,_ she thought, dismally. _I’m a party game._

“Leave your broomstick at home, Marnie?” jeered another--Paul, from her math class.

“Get out of my way, you guys. This isn’t funny.”

“I disagree. Seeing you all dressed up like a real girl is pretty funny from where I’m sitting.” Mike grinned as his companions started to laugh. Marnie looked from face to face, hands starting to shake despite the punch she was holding. One spell and they’d be out of her way. Just one spell--

Which she’d promised her mother she wouldn’t cast. She was supposed to be a normal girl for just one night. Only if she’d ever been a normal girl in the first place, she wouldn’t have been in that situation. A normal girl wouldn’t get surrounded and mocked at her prom for being a witch.

She was still trying to figure out what to do when one of them shoved her from behind. She stumbled and the punch went everywhere, splashing the front of her dress with vast, spreading streaks of red. The boys around her laughed, their bodies shielding her from the sight of the chaperones.

Marnie stared at them in wide-eyed shock, the unspoken words of a transformation spell rising in her mind. _Toads,_ she thought, _a word and they’re all toads, and they’ll never do this to me again..._

“Awww, did the little witch get punch on her pretty party dress? Just magic it away, Marnie! We want to watch!”

“Careful, Paul, she’ll go all Carrie on you!”

“It’s punch, not pig’s blood, you idiot.”

Marnie looked down at the half-empty cups in her hands, cheeks burning, and fought to swallow the spell that was trying to force its way out of her. They deserved it, she knew they deserved it, but she’d _promised_...

“What are you guys doing to my date?” Luke spoke from a point just behind Mike’s head. His voice was calm enough, but Marnie recognized the anger lurking just underneath his words; she’d heard it before, when he challenged her over the salvation of Halloweentown.

“What’s it to you? She get you of the science lab, frog-boy?”

Marnie looked up, suddenly afraid that her disguise spell was failing, but no, it was Luke; just Luke, still looking like another human boy. A distinctly displeased human boy, with his arms folded across his chest, glaring at the guys surrounding her.

“No. I’ve known Marnie for years.”

“Oh. A pity date.”

“A what?” Luke frowned, looking honestly confused.

“Come on, Luke, we’re leaving,” Marnie said hurriedly, dropping her half-empty cups and slipping through the gap created by his arrival to grab his hand and haul him away. She didn’t want them to explain the concept. There was too much of a chance that Luke would take it the wrong way and think that they were talking about him. 

“But those guys--” he protested.

“They suck. Come on.”

She hauled him toward the exit. Luke glared back over his shoulder at the ring of laughing boys still standing on the dance floor, now cat-calling rude comments about “the witching hour” and how she was “going off to kiss her frog.”

He was going to remember their faces.

#

**13: Bored Games.**

“Do you think Marnie’s having a good time at the prom? Is she going to hate me when she gets home? She is. She’s going to hate me. I should mentally prepare myself for my daughter hating me.” Gwen twitched the curtains aside, once again staring out into the moonlit front yard. There was no sign yet of Marnie or her date, but the evening was young; they had hours left before curfew.

Sophie looked up from the Trivial Pursuit game, and frowned. “Mom? Pacing until you wear a hole in the carpet isn’t going to make the night happen faster. Come play. It’s your turn.”

“I should never have let her take Luke to the prom. I should’ve put my foot down. No goblin boys. Only human boys, _normal_ boys...”

“Normal is overrated, Mom,” Dylan said, looking up. “Come on, or we’ll move without you.”

Sophia waggled a finger in the air, causing the dice to roll themselves, and said, “If _my_ prom was tomorrow, I think I’d probably take Danny.”

“Danny?” Gwen asked, turning. “Who’s Danny?”

“You mean the one who lives down the street from Grandma?” Dylan asked. “The one with the glasses?”

“Yup,” Sophie said, waggling her fingers again. The dice stopped rolling and fell to the board, showing snake eyes. “The werewolf.”

“Doesn’t he have fleas?”

“He takes eucalyptus baths and wears a flea collar in the summer. He’s nice, and he’s funny and smart. And he likes to play Frisbee, and says I howl at the moon better than any other witch he knows.”

Gwen stared for a moment, and then started to laugh, shaking her head. “Nothing I can do is going to make you kids grow up normal, is it?”

“Nope. We’re a lost cause,” Sophie said, serenely. “Now come on.”

“Yeah,” said Dylan. “It’s still your turn.”

#

**14: Out of the Bearded Barley.**

“What was that all about?” Luke demanded, as he and Marnie came to a stop outside the gym. “Why were those boys bothering you? Why did we run? You could’ve--”

“No,” Marnie said, letting go of his hand and turning to face him. “I couldn’t.”

“Why not? They’re just humans!”

“They may be ‘just humans’, Luke, but they’re humans like my father was. I can’t just go around just--just zapping them into frogs or whatever because they’re rude to me. No matter how much I may want to.”

Luke paused, looking at her expression. “But they upset you. They made you sad.” _I didn’t want to see that look on your face; not tonight, Marnie, not here..._

“I’ll get over it.” She shook her head, smiling wryly and blinking back tears as she looked down at her dress. “I mean, look at me. The stains won’t even show.”

“Marnie...”

“It’s dangerous to be different. You should know that. Isn’t that why you were afraid to come here with me?” She looked up again, unshed tears glinting in her eyes.

_No,_ he thought, _I was afraid to go because I thought that you might look at me that way._ “I got over being scared. I’m glad I’m here with you.”

“Even after what just happened?”

“Of course. Are they like that all the time?”

“Sometimes. Usually they ignore me. Sometimes they’re worse.” She’d always thought that someday she’d reach the point where jeers and teasing couldn’t touch her. And every time she thought she’d managed it, something like this would happen, and she’d wind up right back where she’d started from. “Being a witch who never actually turns anyone into a frog doesn’t protect you. It just makes you a target.”

Luke’s expression hardened, and he offered her his hand. “Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“Back inside.” He jerked his head toward the gym. “You asked me to be your prom date. So I’m going to do what you asked me to. We’re going to drink punch and talk to the stupid humans and dance until curfew.”

Marnie stared at him. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to.” Luke shrugged. “Because it would be the normal thing to do. And that’s what your mom wants you to have tonight, right?”

“I guess so,” Marnie said, and smiled shyly, sliding her hand into his. She couldn’t help feeling like something was going on; something a little bit bigger and more important than just a dance. And again, she found herself wishing that she hadn’t had to wrap Luke in that disguise spell. She wanted to see his eyes.

Luke smiled back, trying to look encouraging. _I must look like such a fool,_ he thought. And then he saw the growing hope in her eyes, and pushed the thought away. So what if he looked like a fool for a little while? It made her happy, and that was what really mattered. He was there to make her happy, for just as long as he could manage it.

“Come on, you,” he said, leading her toward the gym. “You still owe me a slow dance.”

#

**15: Reception Difficulties.**

“Oh, good move, dear,” Agatha Cromwell said, picking up another pumpkin cake and taking a bite as she watched the scene unfolding in her crystal ball. “That’s right, lead her back inside--good boy. She’ll dance with you. You know she wants to.”

Finally seeing Marnie realizing what she wanted and stepping out with Luke had been the high point of Aggie’s summer. It wasn’t that she didn’t understand Gwen’s urge to have her children settle down and be happy in the mortal world; after all, she’d very much wanted to see her only daughter settled in Halloweentown and carrying on the Cromwell legacy, once upon a time. But since that hadn’t happened, she’d transferred her hopes for the future to the next generation...and to Marnie.

Marnie was a good witch. Maybe her powers were still a little wobbly from her late start, but she studied hard and caught on quickly, more than making up for her mortal blood. As she’d gotten older, Aggie had been half-afraid that she’d lose her granddaughter the same way she’d lost Gwen--that some strapping mortal lad would come along and sweep her off her feet, and it would all be over. At that point, it would just be her and maybe Sophie left to carry on the Cromwell line, and she wasn’t young anymore. Eventually, she needed to know that she had a successor. Cody had been the realization of all her worst fears, at least until that relationship met its inevitably messy end, unable to bridge the barrier between the worlds.

If Marnie stayed with Luke, on the other hand...there were worse things in the Cromwell family tree than a good, honorable goblin boy who honestly wanted what was best for the girl he cared about. Much worse things.

The reception on her crystal ball started to get fuzzy, and she smacked it with the heel of her hand, a technique she’d learned from watching Marnie deal with the family’s old upstairs television. “Oh, come on, you. Don’t you cut out just as we’re getting to the good part.”

The picture just got fuzzier, and she smacked it again, saying, “Work!”

The crystal ball went black. Then, slowly, a face appeared; a face she almost recognized, pale-skinned and green-haired, with ears that tapered to delicate points. “Hello, Agatha,” she said, sweetly.

The voice was the last key to recognition. Agatha’s eyes widened, pumpkin cake falling out of her hand. “You!”

“Me,” the face in the glass replied, and smiled. “Miss me?”

“What are you doing in my crystal? How _dare_ you!”

“How dare _I_ , Agatha? How dare _you_. Sitting there and playing with your little crystal while my unfair banishment from Halloweentown continues? Did you ever even _think_ to speak on my behalf? To ask them to reconsider? They took my _wings_ , Agatha.”

“Perryn, we were friends once, but no more,” Agatha said, expression hardening. “They took your wings because there’s no other way to trap a fairy godmother on the mortal plane. I was the one that told them they had to do it. I would’ve taken your wand too, if that wouldn’t have killed you.”

“And so the lofty Agatha Cromwell sits in judgement over those of us that have made a few mistakes, is that it? Lofty and untouchable? Think again, old friend. Things are changing.”

“What are you talking about, Perryn?”

“You’ve gotten old and lazy while the rest of us lingered in filth. Your time will come.” Perryn smiled, showing sharp white teeth, and the image in the crystal blanked out.

Agatha spent several minutes trying to get the picture to return, to no avail. It was gone.

Standing, she summoned her broom and cloak to her hands, and walked out into the night. There was work to be done.

If Perryn had found a way back into Halloweentown, the city needed to be warned.

#

**16: Be Careful What You Wish For.**

“Luke, I’m still not sure this is a good idea...”

“Hush, for once in your life. I know what I’m doing,” Luke said, and led Marnie back into the gym.

The mess on the floor had been cleaned up, and the boys responsible for it had long since returned to their dates and corners. A few heads turned toward them as they entered, curious, and Luke felt Marnie start to pull away.

“Stop that,” he said. “You’re not the freak here, _they_ are. They’re the ones who can’t see how wonderful it is to have a real Cromwell witch even deigning to associate with them.”

Marnie blinked. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. They’re all fools. Come on.” He led her out to the center of the dance floor, ignoring the stares of Marnie’s classmates, and said, “All right. Now what do we do?”

“What? This was your idea!”

“Yeah, but it’s not my dance.” Luke grinned disarmingly, and again, Marnie found herself picturing what that expression would look like on his undisguised face. It wasn’t an unwelcome image. “The music’s too slow. Tell me what to do.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“You’re a Cromwell. You know how to be bossy. You’ve bossed me around since the day that we met.” Luke shrugged, still grinning. “So come on, Marnie. Boss me around some more.” _Boss me around forever. I don’t mind._

Marnie studied him for a moment, and then, slowly, smiled. “All right. First, you put one hand here.” She reached for his free hand, moving it around to place on her hip. While he was still blinking at her in surprise, she did the same with his other hand, saying, “Now, put this hand here. And slide them together, and rest them on my back.”

“I...but...”

“You asked me how to slow dance.” Keeping her eyes on his, Marnie linked her hands behind his neck and stepped closer, saying, “Now you tighten your arms, so that I can’t fall.”

Luke did as he was told, silently hoping that the disguise spell he was wearing wouldn’t show the way he was blushing. “And, uh, now what do we do?”

“Now we dance.” All around them, couples in similar positions--some even closer together -- were swaying back and forth, eyes closed. Luke started to emulate them, trying not to think too hard about how close Marnie was to him, or the fact that he had his arms around her--from the front this time, rather than from the back, the way that he normally rode when he joined her on the broomstick.

Marnie rested her head against his shoulder, closing her eyes, and swayed in time with the music. The punch on her dress was drying, and not even going to stain...and frankly, if that was what it took to get Luke to pull her out onto the floor, maybe she didn’t really want to complain all that much. This was...nice. This was more than nice.

This was what she’d been wanting all night.

_Mom was right,_ she thought. _Going to the prom was a good idea. And I was right, too--taking Luke was the right thing to do._ She opened one eye, looking up at him. He was watching the couples around them, apparently trying to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong. She closed her eye again, smiling against his shoulder.

_I like him,_ she thought. _I really, really like him. I don’t care if he’s a human or a goblin or whatever. He’s just...he’s Luke. That’s all I want him to be. Just Luke._

The song ended and the next began, and they kept on dancing. Everything would be all right, just as long as they kept dancing.

“Marnie?”

“Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” She leaned back, smiling up at him. “I was just thinking that Mom was right. Sometimes...I guess sometimes it really _is_ nice to be normal.”

#

**Interlude: Making Wishes, Part IV.**

The crystal flashed a third time, almost drowning the room in brilliant white light. The woman sitting in front of it jerked back, grinning slowly as the black quartz turned a dull purple, lit from within.

“Does that count?” demanded the voice from the shadows. “Is that enough?”

“Enough and more! She asked for ‘some time’, and that’s what she shall have. Three wishes is enough for me to pull them into what we need,” she said, unable to keep the delight out of her voice. “Three requests...”

“And the third time’s the charm,” came the hissing reply. “Time to give them what they asked for.”

Smiling thinly, she turned back to the crystal and spread her hands above it. One by one, the faces of the Piper family swam into view: Gwen, Dylan, Marnie. Sophie’s face appeared at the center, more dimly, like she was being viewed through a tunnel. “Let’s begin.”

“Will it work on the little brat?” the voice asked.

“Not as well as on her family,” admitted the woman. “She never placed the wish herself, and that means it can’t bind her as quickly. But she’s young, and what changes for them will change for her as well. She’ll just see the changes for what they are for longer than the rest will.”

“Good enough,” the voice said. “You may begin.”

“Thank you _so_ kindly,” she said, the mockery in her voice impossible to miss. Hands still raised, she chanted:

“Half the choices each man sees  
Are founded in the fading past:  
We place our faith in destinies,  
Believing history will last.  
Each of you has made a choice,  
Called for something you were not.  
‘Normal’ you have given voice...  
Now leave your stranger dreams...forgot.”

The crystal flared with sickly purple light this time, brightening until the faces of the Pipers had vanished underneath the glow. Perryn let her hands drop, staring off into the darkness, and said, “It is done, my lord.”

From out of the shadows drifted a faded, scarecrow-tattered figure, wrapped in the remains of what had once been an elegant black velvet cloak. When the purple light hit him directly, he became all but transparent, fading into the shadows. He was only a ghost of himself, but still, she knew him; he was her husband, her lord and master, and the reason for her exile from Halloweentown.

“No, my dear,” Kalabar replied. “It’s only beginning.”


	2. Forget Me Now, Forget Me Never

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things are getting bad as memories and magic fade.

**17: You Just Might Get It.**

There was no warning buzz, no flash of light in the air: the spell that disguised Luke as just another human boy at the prom simply ended, dissolving away into nothing. For a moment, Marnie didn’t even realize what had happened; she was too busy looking up into his face and matching his smile with her own.

 _I was right,_ she thought. _He looks even better smiling with his real..._ She stopped, suddenly understanding what had happened.

“Atole var!” she hissed, under her breath. Nothing happened.

“What?” Luke asked, blinking. Around the gym, people were starting to point and whisper. The laughter would start any second now, she knew, and that was the last thing that she wanted. For either of them. “Marnie, what’s wrong?”

“Atole var!” she said again, more loudly. There should have been something to show that the spell was working, or at the worst, somehow being blocked, but there wasn’t; there was nothing at all, not even the singed feeling in the air that usually denoted a failed enchantment. She knew the spell worked--it had worked earlier that same night--and yet it wasn’t responding to her. “Why isn’t it working? It should be working!”

What was happening?

“What should be working? Marnie, what’s going on?”

“Luke--”

“Wow, Marnie, I guess you really _did_ bring a frog to the prom! Croak croak, froggie! Croak croak!” Paul’s voice rang out through the gym like a shot.

That seemed to be the cue everyone else had been waiting for, because they started to laugh. Not all at once, but in a swiftly growing tide that swept through the crowd in seconds. They were all pointing and laughing now, caught up in the unexpected mirth of the situation.

For a moment, Luke just stared. Then he pulled away from her, looking down at his own gray-green hands. Marnie stumbled back, eyes wide, not sure what she should say to him. Even worse, she wasn’t sure what she _could_ say to him. The spell shouldn’t have died like that. Her magic was _never_ that unreliable. And yet it had, and now Luke was paying the consequences.

He looked away from his hands and back up at her, expression bleak. She was a Cromwell witch. He knew as well as she did that things like this simply didn’t happen. “Marnie,” he said, sounding almost disbelieving, “how could you?”

And then he turned and ran, heading back for the exit, just as she had done not the long before. The laughter continued, following him out into the night. Marnie cast a frantic look around the gym, and saw that all the members of the senior class were laughing now, some pointing after the fleeing goblin, some pointing at her instead.

“I hate you all,” she whispered, and ran after him.

#

**18: No Take-Backs.**

Luke was already almost back to where they’d left the broom by the time Marnie caught up to him, stumbling as she tried to run across the ground in her dress shoes. When she’d picked them out, she hadn’t expected to be trying to outrun an angry, upset goblin over slightly marshy school lawn. Which, considering her history, was probably a major oversight on her part.

“Luke, wait--”

"Wait? Why?" He stopped where he was and turned around to face her, glaring. Marnie stumbled to a stop and shied back, surprised. She’d seen Luke angry before, but never like this--and she’d never seen him actually angry at _her_. “So what, was this some sort of joke? ‘Bring a creature to the mortal party so that they’ll have something to laugh at besides the poor, powerful, beautiful Cromwell witch’? Did you set me up for this?”

“Luke, no, I--”

“All that stuff with them making fun of you was just a joke, wasn’t it? It was just part of giving them a good show!”

“No! Luke--”

“Well, I’m sorry that I’m a freak, okay? I’m sorry! I’m sorry that I’m not good enough for you, and I’m sorry that I’m not human...and I’m sorry that I ever came. I should know better by now.”

“It wasn’t like that.” Marnie blinked back tears, more stung by his words than she’d ever thought she could be. How could she explain when he was this angry? How could she make him understand when even she had no idea what was going on?

Luke just glared at her, slowly shaking his head from side to side. “They _laughed_.”

“I know. They laughed at me, too. But I didn’t know the spell would drop, Luke, I...” Marnie paused. “I don’t know why it broke. It shouldn’t have. That spell was supposed to hold until midnight, and then it broke, and I couldn’t get it back up, and...”

“Maybe it wasn’t supposed to break, but it did.” Luke turned away, shaking his head more slowly now. He didn’t look angry anymore; he looked resigned, and somehow, that was even worse. “I should never have come to this thing. You don’t need some creature following you around. You need a human guy. Like Cody. He was good for you. And I’m not.”

“Luke--” Marnie started to reach for him. She wasn’t sure what she could do, if anything, but she felt that she had to do _something_. She had to stop him from leaving her here, or she was never going to get him back again. “Please.”

“I can make my own way home.”

“But I...”

“Don't, okay? Just don’t.” He turned the corner, and Marnie heard the familiar rip and crackle of the gateway to Halloweentown as it pulled itself open at his command. The spell they’d cast to let all denizens of Halloweentown, mortal and creature, travel back and forth was holding. She waited, but he didn’t come back.

He’d gone home. He’d gone back to Halloweentown, and he’d left her there alone.

“But I don’t want a human guy,” she said, staring into the trees like she could somehow will him to come back. “I just want...”

She stopped, leaving the rest of the sentence unsaid. As a witch, even a witch in training, she knew how much power words had. Those were words she wasn’t ready to say yet, and especially not tonight, alone, staring at the space where he’d been only a few moments before.

She finally started to cry as she turned and trudge, slowly, back toward the prom. They’d laughed at her, but they’d laughed at him, too.

Whatever they called her tonight, she deserved it.

#

**19: Too, Too Solid Flesh.**

“Perryn! Look!” Delighted, Kalabar wrapped his still-spectral hands around the thin piece of silver and amethyst that was her wand and lifted. It rose a few inches off the table, then fell back again, but the look on his face was nothing but triumphant. “I can affect the material world!”

“Don’t start with my wand!” she snapped, snatching it away. “You know what happens to me if anything hurts this!”

“You’ll fade away, my darling,” he said, reaching out to caress her cheek. Perryn leaned into the half-felt touch, eyes closing. “I knew when I married you that you were...limited in some ways.”

Her eyes snapped open again, and she glared at him. “Just remember whose ‘limited’ magic got you back your future, and is giving you your revenge,” she said. “Maybe I can’t wave a hand and turn a man into a pig, but one little wish...”

“Yes. One little wish and the world is yours. I know, beloved, I know.” Kalabar smiled. “Revenge is sweet, and soon, we’ll have all the vengeance we could wish. I on the Cromwell brats...”

“And I upon their sanctimonious grandmother. Strip _me_ of my wings, will she? Exile _me_ to the mortal world? Those fools will pay for listening to her.”

“You’ll have your wings again before we finish this.”

“I know I will. I’ll have my wings, and more.” Perryn smiled thinly, exposing the narrow points of her teeth. “We’ll rule the Halloween world together.”

“Yes,” Kalabar said, quietly. “Together.”

#

**20: Coming Home.**

The rest of the prom was as dismal as she’d expected it to be.

High school students aren’t known for their kindness under the best of circumstances. When the school weirdo and known witch chases her transformed monster date out into the night and then comes back alone, well, her classmates may suddenly find the capacity to be an awful lot more cruel. She found herself bumped into every time she tried to leave her seat in the corner, snickered at behind hands, and even openly jeered at the one time that she dared get up to use the ladies room. Still, Marnie bore it all in silence; she’d earned it, after all, and while they mocked her, she was trying frantically to figure out why the spell had failed. It shouldn’t have been able to do that, but it had. That was more than a little worrisome.

When the clock struck ten, she was finally willing to let herself go home. Rising, she ignored the catcalls and hushed jeers as she walked out of the room, head held high. _You are a Cromwell witch,_ she thought. _You will not let them see you cry._

She was convincing enough that she almost believed herself. Almost.

Outside, she stopped to remove her shoes and walked barefoot back across the field to the trees where she had concealed her broom. A snap of her fingers should have caused the broom to reappear--but it didn’t. Scowling and fighting the urge to panic, she snapped her fingers again. This time the invisibility charm broke, and she was able to walk to her broom, hike her skirt enough to get her leg across it, and push off.

Maybe it was her mood and the events of the evening, but flying didn’t seem as simple as it had recently; she had to climb higher and higher to keep from being seen, because her flight pattern was irregular. She’d think she was high enough to avoid collisions, and then find herself very nearly flying into someone’s power lines. It was jarring, and almost enough to distract her from the disastrous events of the evening. Almost, but not quite.

She landed unsteadily in her own backyard, nearly falling off the broom before she caught her balance again. “What’s going _on_?” she asked, picking up the broom and heading inside. “Mom? Mom!”

Gwen was in the kitchen, midway through putting away the dinner dishes. She stopped as Marnie returned, blinking at her. “Marnie, what’s wrong?”

“The prom, I--we were having a great time, but then--Luke--”

“Where is he? Marnie, is Luke okay?” The thought that Luke might have been the cause of Marnie’s distress never crossed her mind. He might be a goblin, but he was also a good boy.

“No,” Marnie said, bleakly. “He’s not. The illusion spell broke while we were dancing, Mom. Everybody laughed.”

“Oh, Marnie.” Gwen put the towel down, asking, “Did he stay after that?”

“No. He ran out because they were laughing. He was so upset, Mom, he was so mad.”

Gwen nodded. “Good.”

“Mom!”

“No, Marnie, that’s _good_. I know his feelings were hurt, since he didn’t come home with you, and I know you well enough to know that yours were hurt too, but frankly, things would be a lot worse if he’d stuck around and tried to argue with your classmates.” Her expression hardened, mouth becoming a thin, tight line. “Things have been hard enough with them knowing that you’re a witch. You’re so close to graduation. You don’t need to throw fuel onto that fire.”

“But he went back to Halloweentown without me,” Marnie said, softly.

“And you can go after him to apologize--tomorrow, after school.”

“School! Mom--”

“It’s almost over. You’ll finish the year, no matter _how_ much they laugh at you, and then you can go to Halloweentown for as long as you want to. You can go be a witch. But until you finish your last class, you’re still living a mortal life. Understand me?”

“Mom--”

“Do you understand me?”

Marnie sighed. “Yes, I understand. It just...scared me when the spell cut out. I don’t know why it did that.”

“Magic is unpredictable. Maybe you set the boundaries incorrectly. You’re still in training, after all.”

“Maybe,” Marnie said, dubiously.

“You can figure it out in the morning. And thank you, by the way,” Gwen said, stepping closer and kissing her on the cheek.

“What for?” Marnie asked.

“Dropping the stasis spell on your hair. It would have been cheating. Now go to bed, sweetie, you need to get some sleep. Things will look better in the morning.” Gwen walked out of the kitchen, leaving Marnie standing there, eyes wide. Then she turned, bolting out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

Flicking on the light, she moved to the mirror above her dresser, and just stared at herself. Her mother was right; her hair was frizzing and disheveled, obviously unconfined by any sort of taming magic.

“But...I didn’t drop the spell,” Marnie whispered.

#

**21: Calling For Help.**

Marnie sat in front of the crystal ball in the attic, rubbing her hands across its surface until it began to glow from within with a lambent white light. “At least this is working right,” she muttered. The hat rack in her room was no longer grabbing hats and coats of its own accord, and the monitoring spell she used to tell her when one of her siblings had been in her room was completely down. All the small enchantments she used around the house were collapsing, and she couldn’t ask her mother for help; Gwen didn’t even know half of them were there.

Grandma Aggie was her only chance. Grandma Aggie wasn’t just her teacher, she was the matriarch of the Cromwell clan, and the most powerful witch left in the family. She’d know what was going on.

“It’s probably just some normal part of developing my powers,” she muttered, as she tapped the pattern for her grandmother’s viewing glass out against the sides of the crystal. “She’s going to tell me not to worry. She’s going to say that everything’s just fine.”

The light in the crystal brightened, becoming almost overwhelming, then resolved into the smiling face of Agatha Cromwell.

“Grandma! Grandma, we went to the prom, and the spell I used to make Luke look human--”

“You’ve reached the home of Agatha Cromwell, of the Halloweentown Cromwells. I’m afraid I can’t come to the crystal at the moment, but if you’d like leave me a message charm, I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Thank you!” The picture brightened, and then disappeared, leaving the crystal dark.

Marnie slumped in her seat. “I can’t even cast a stasis spell right now, and she wants a message charm?”

She could deal with things in the morning. Her mom was probably right; she could just sleep it off, go to school, and leave for Halloweentown to apologize to Luke after she was done. He’d listen to her.

“He’d better,” she muttered, standing and heading for the attic door. “If he doesn’t, I’ll just suspend him from his tree until he _starts_.”

Feeling somewhat better, if still uneasy, Marnie Piper went to bed.

#

**22: Crying Wolf.**

“Arrogant, stupid, uncaring...” Agatha snarled, storming out of the Halloweentown city hall with her robes swirling around her and her broom clutched firmly in one hand. “How _dare_ they call me paranoid? They should know by now that these things happen in threes! The laws of magic--”

“Agatha? What’s wrong?”

She turned, sighing, and shook her head. “Nothing, Ms. Slothwell, really. I’m just...I had a meeting with the Council. It didn’t go well.”

Ms. Slothwell clucked her tongue, shaking her head. “Things ran so much more smoothly when Kalabar was our Mayor, didn’t they? None of these nasty runarounds.”

“What?” Agatha stared. “Kalabar tried to destroy us--he nearly succeeded! And then his son--”

“Well, yes,” said Ms. Slothwell, waving one taloned hand dismissively, “but he was such a fine Mayor until that happened, wasn’t he? Didn’t he date your daughter once?”

“Yes,” said Agatha, stiffly. “And after that experience, it’s no wonder she left Halloweentown to marry a mortal. I might have done the same.”

“She broke that poor boy’s heart,” Ms. Slothwell said. “He’s just lucky he found that lovely fairy godmother girl...”

“The one we banished for perverting the wishes of children? What are you talking about? Why are you suddenly acting like these people were _heroes_ for trying to kill us all?”

Ms. Slothwell looked at her, eyes narrowed. Then she shook her head like she was shaking off some sort of cloak, looking suddenly bewildered. “I...I don’t know what came over me, Agatha. I was just remembering Kalabar, and suddenly...”

“Suddenly it was like he had never left,” Agatha said, slowly. “I’m starting to get that feeling, too. Something’s wrong. I’m going home. I’ll see you soon.”

“All right, Agatha. Be well.”

“I’ll try.” She seated herself sidesaddle on her broom and pushed off, zooming toward home. If Kalabar had found some new way to return, they were all in deep, deep trouble. She just needed to find the answers, and fast.

Before it was too late.

#

**22: The Music of Pain.**

Luke slammed the door behind himself as he stormed back into his house beneath the oak trees, not even bothering to take off his coat or jacket as he continued through to the bedroom and threw himself onto the bed. They had _laughed_. Marnie set him up; she brought him to her prom and then she dropped the spell, and they’d all _laughed_ at him.

Only...they’d laughed at her, too. They’d laughed at her even more than they’d laughed at him, because they started earlier with her. He’d had to make them stop laughing...

Luke rolled over, scowling. No. He wasn’t going to think about that. Going to the dance had been a stupid idea, and he’d paid for it. He wouldn’t make that mistake again. Goblin boys didn’t date half-human girls. It just didn’t happen.

But the way she’d looked at him...

“ _No_ ,” he said aloud. “No. Once was enough. No.”

He wasn’t even going to try. Once was enough, and he knew better than to throw himself against a wall that he could never manage to climb. She was a Cromwell witch, and he was just a goblin, and that was the way it was always going to be. The only time he’d been anything more was when he’d served Kalabar, and look where that got him: distrusted and shamed in front of the entire town.

It was time to stop trying to be something more than he was, and just admit that he would never be anything but another Halloweentown goblin. Just another creature, nothing less, and nothing more. He’d never be a hero. He’d never save the world. He’d never even save himself.

Closing his eyes, Luke lay there quietly until he finally slept.

#

**23: Alarms and Excursions.**

Marnie Piper’s alarm rang promptly at seven o’clock in the morning, causing her to bolt out of a sound sleep and stare, dismayed, at the clock. “Morning already?” she groaned, and hit the “off” switch with the palm of her hand, crawling out of bed.

Her bathrobe was hanging on the rack next to the door, next to her winter coat and her punch-stained prom dress. She pulled the robe on, doing her best not to look at the dress, and padded out into the hall, banging on the bathroom door with the heel of her hand. “Whoever’s in there, hurry it up!”

Sophie came out of her room, rubbing her eyes, and blinked as she saw Marnie. “Whoa. Marnie, you’re not dressed.”

“Of course not. I just got out of bed.” She banged on the door again. “All right, Dylan, I know it’s you! Now open up!”

From inside the bathroom, Dylan’s voice called, “Make me!”

“But you always just magic your clothes on in the morning,” Sophie said, bemused. “So you don’t have to do laundry.”

Marnie blinked at her. “I didn’t even think...that’s so weird. Excuse me a second.” Getting out of the line for the bathroom, Marnie vanished back into her room. Sophie watched her go, frowning. She hadn’t seen Marnie looking anything less than totally fresh and ready to go in the morning since her training with Grandma Aggie really began.

Maybe her date hadn’t gone well?

Closing her bedroom door, Marnie waved her hands in the customary pattern, and was relieved to see her bathrobe reappear on its hook, while she was magically clothed in clean jeans and a solid red T-shirt. She glanced at the mirror, and frowned a little; the spell should have combed her hair at the same time, but it hadn’t. She still had serious bed-head.

“What, now I have to comb my own hair?” she grumbled, pulling open her top dresser drawer and starting to dig for her long-neglected hairbrush. The contents of the drawer seemed odd somehow, and she leaned back, studying them.

The change was so subtle that it took a moment for her to catch it at all: all her witching supplies were gone. “What the...there’s my mandrake root? The vampire’s teeth? The werewolf hair?” She started digging again, this time almost frantically. Her supplies, all of them, even the cat’s paw she’d spent three weeks’ allowance on, were gone.

Slamming the door shut, she gave her room a serious look. Her hat was gone; its peg was occupied instead by an old backpack filled with plush toys that she’d outgrown. Her broom wasn’t in its place in the corner. She rushed to the door, slamming it open. “ _Sophie_?!”

“What?” Sophie asked, moving away from the bathroom door.

“Have you been in my room again?”

“No. Why?” She sounded honestly perplexed, and Marnie’s anger started to flag, replaced by creeping fear.

“Some of my things are missing.”

“What things?” Sophie started to step into the room, and Marnie moved aside, letting her enter. As she scanned the room, the younger girl’s eyes widened. “Marnie...where’s your broom?”

“Or my hat, or my cauldron? It’s all gone. Everything.”

“My tools are still where they belong,” Sophie said, slowly. “I tripped on my broom when I got up this morning.”

“That’s something, anyway,” Marnie said. “But where are my--”

“ _Marnie Piper_!” Gwen shouted up the stairs. “Get down here and eat your breakfast this instant, or you’re going to be late to school!”

“Coming, Mom!” Marnie shouted, automatically. She looked back to her sister. “Sophie...”

“I got it. I’ll have one of my ‘stomach bugs’ and stay home. Call me at lunch with whatever you can figure out.”

“Got it. Thanks.” Marnie hugged her sister, briskly, and ran down the stairs.

Sophie stayed where she was for a long moment, frowning as she continued to look around the room. Then she shivered, and started down the stairs at a slow, dragging pace, wailing, “Mommy? I don’t feel so good...”

#

**24: Setting the Pace.**

“Well?” Kalabar demanded.

Perryn held up one hand, watching her crystal intently in as the image of Marnie sat at the breakfast table and started to eat. “Your pretty former lady has already forgotten where she came from; her son has almost done the same. He’s sliding rapidly into what he believed he wanted, and he won’t look back. The girls will last a little longer. Their world is changing to suit what they’ve wished for.”

“How long before I’m solid? I want to go back, Perryn. I want my _revenge_...”

“Patience. When the elder girl has slid a bit further from herself, then we can move. Then they’ll be ready.” She looked up, and smiled. “It won’t be long now before you’re ready to face your public. And after that...well, it’s only a matter of time.”

“And none of them will remember my defeat.”

“Not a one, my love, for it will never have happened. And I will never have lost my lovely wings.”

“And our son?”

“Back in his school to learn the ways of dark magic, as he should have been all along. He’ll be as powerful as ever you were, once he’s been properly trained.” Her smile sharpened, becoming cruel. “We’ll rule Halloweentown forever.”

“Yes, darling,” he said, turning back toward the shadows. “Just the three of us, forever.”

Perryn turned back to her crystal, content to watch, as Kalabar stalked away. He knew full well that she’d never suspect him. She had always been too trusting and too willing to believe in love. Just another frailty of her fairy heritage.

Yes, he was going to rule Halloweentown forever.

But he was intending to do it alone.

#

**25: All Your State of Mind.**

Marnie slunk into the school with her head down and her books clutched against her chest, trying not to meet anyone’s eyes. The last thing she wanted was to be laughed at before she’d even made it to her English class.

“Hey, Piper, how’s it hangin’?” asked Paul as he breezed past her in the hall, clapping her shoulder with one hand. She raised her head, staring after him. That had seemed like a perfectly friendly greeting...

“What was _that_ about?” she muttered, and went into the classroom.

Half the class was already seated. Marnie walked past them without looking to either side, half-cringing as she slunk into her seat and waited for the laughter to start...but it didn’t. She dared to look up and around the room, and saw that no one was paying any attention to her. No, that wasn’t right; Janice Alderman, who hadn’t spoken to her since the Halloween party when Kal had attempted to take over the mortal world, was waving. Bemused, Marnie waved back.

_Well, at least I’m not invisible,_ Marnie thought, opening her English book and pretending to concentrate. No one was likely to come up and bother her if she was actually studying. _So what’s going on?_

The bell rang while she was still staring at her book, and Mr. Lopez walked into the room. “Good morning everybody! Hope you all enjoyed your senior prom, and that the cunning scheduling ploy of putting it on a Thursday to prevent drunken bacchanals hasn’t resulted in me having an entire class of hung-over prom-goers. Can anyone tell me what a bacchanal is? Anyone? Marnie. Speak wisdom to me.”

“Uh...a bacchanal is a wild gathering in honor of Dionysus. Wine, women, song. Sometimes also attributed to a gathering of witches.” Marnie ducked her head, waiting for the snickering to begin. But no one laughed.

“I see we have one person who’s still awake and with us today. Marnie, to what do we owe your erudite state of mind?”

“Piper skipped the prom because her sister was sick,” called one of the boys, in a distinct “ha ha missed out” sort of tone.

Marnie’s head snapped around, and she stared at him. The students that had been at the dance had no reason to cover for her; they should’ve been laughing at her every time she opened her mouth. Instead, they were saying she’d missed the dance entirely? What was going on?

“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Mr. Lopez said. “Since we’re heading toward finals, guys, I’m going to be taking us through our last great work of literature at a breakneck pace. Please assume crash positions as the lovely Miss Marie--Marie, that’s you, please put down the nail file--assists me by passing out your class copies of _MacBeth_. Be gentle with these books, guys, they’re older than I am...yes, John?”

“Is this the play with the witches?” Marnie braced herself for the laughter again--and still, it didn’t come. She risked a look around the classroom, and saw the usual mixture of boredom, interest and disdain--but no amusement. No one was even looking at her.

“Yes, that’s right. Three witches who foretell the future--or possibly create it. This is one of Shakespeare’s more supernatural pieces of work.” Mr. Lopez turned, picking up a cardboard box filled with books. “As you receive your book, please note the number on the spine...”

Marnie took her book from Marie automatically, calling out her number when Mr. Lopez called her name. No one was laughing. Even if things hadn’t gone wrong at the prom with Luke--it hurt just to think about it--they should have laughed when Mr. Lopez said the play was about witches. But they hadn’t. As far as she could tell, they didn’t think there was any sort of connection between the witches in the play and their own Marnie Piper.

She didn’t particularly relish the idea of being laughed at, but this was somehow worse. Were they all planning something, or were they just not making the connection for some reason?

What was going on?

#

**26: Ordinary Day, Part II.**

Dylan sat down in computer class and turned on the monitor, humming to himself. The morning had been going surprisingly well. No one had called him any names or tried to trip him in the hall, and--best of all--he hadn’t heard a single witch joke. Not one! He could definitely get used to this.

The hard drive made a choking, whirring sound, and refused to boot up. Dylan frowned, leaning forward, and gave the computer case a light tap. Nothing changed. He tapped it again, a bit harder, and looked around the classroom. No one was watching him; they were all bent over their own computers, intent. He could cast--

Cast? Cast what? The school play? A fishing rod? Dylan sat back in his chair again, frown deepening. What had he been thinking?

Well, whatever it was, it was gone now. He sighed and raised his hand, waiting for the teacher to notice him. Sometimes doing things the hard way was dull, but, well.

That was all he had.

#

**27: Makeover.**

Midway through third period, Marnie discovered that she just couldn’t take it anymore.

Everyone was being nice to her. Well, not _nice_ \--she was pretty sure that most high school students were genetically and emotionally incapable of actually being nice--but they weren’t going out of their way to tease her, either. Mostly they ignored her or treated her as an equal, and that included girls like Janice, who hadn’t spoken to her in ages. It wasn’t just strange: it was starting to cross the line into creepy.

Turning over her history paper and placing a pencil over the top of it, she walked to the front of the room and quietly requested the bathroom pass. There were the usual few quiet snickers as someone left the room to “do their business” at school, but no more than anyone else would have earned. She looked back over her shoulder, and saw that the room was still working, ignoring her.

Shaking her head, she stepped out into the hall. “This is getting too weird,” she muttered under her breath, as she turned to head for the girl’s bathroom. She didn’t actually need to go, but it was a good place to stop and think, and most the hall monitors were guys. Unless smoke was coming out of the bathroom vents in huge puffy clouds, they’d leave her alone in there.

For once, she was in luck: no one was smoking in the girl’s room. She moved to the sink, putting the hall pass down, and turned on the water. She’d just splash a little bit on her face, and then...and then...

Something was wrong with her hands. She’d never bothered with nail polish before she knew she was a witch--it took too long to put on and didn’t last long enough to be worth it--but once she’d learned the proper spells to maintain a perfect manicure, it had seemed silly not to do it. Only now the polish was gone, leaving her nails chipped and gnawed at the edges. The way she’d worn them before she realized that she was a witch.

“What’s going on?” Marnie whispered, raising her hands to her face and staring at them. “I don’t understand.”

Whatever this was, it was starting to seem a lot bigger than one collapsing disguise spell. First her trouble with Luke’s disguise and starting the broom after the prom; then the disappearance of her magical tools; now this. It was starting to look bad. Really bad. What could possibly be undermining the world this way?

“Marnie? Are you okay?”

“What--Janice.” She dropped her hands, turning quickly to face the door. She was vaguely aware that she looked like she was hiding something, but it was difficult to care. “Hi. Sorry. I...I don’t feel well.”

Janice was standing with her arms folded, one eyebrow raised dubiously. “Well, if you’re sick, go home. You missed prom. They’ll believe you caught your sister’s cold, and I don’t want you to give it to me.”

“Did I really miss prom?”

“What?” Janice started to laugh, and then stopped, frowning. “You’re serious. Yes, you missed prom. Marnie, are you okay?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know. Have we--have we ever not been friends?”

“Marnie, what are you talking about? I’ve known you since second grade.”

“I was sort of afraid you’d say that,” Marnie said, slowly. She remembered being friends with Janice for a long time, yes--but then, as her witchcraft became more and more important, they’d started to drift apart, until finally, it all got to be too much. She couldn’t tell Janice about her witchcraft, and Janice couldn’t handle all Marnie’s secrets. By the time everything went public, it was too late. There was no friendship left to rebuild.

If they were friends again--if Janice didn’t remember the time they’d spent not speaking to one another--what did it mean?

“Marnie?”

“It’s nothing. It’s...I think you’re right. I’ve got Sophie’s cold. I should go home.”

“You’re right.” Janice moved to put her arm around Marnie’s shoulders, saying, “Come on. Let’s go get your stuff, and I’ll take you to the office.”

“Thanks, Janice,” Marnie said. “You’re a good friend.” She meant it, too. She’d missed Janice even more than she realized. It was good to have somebody at school that cared enough to follow her to the bathroom and make sure she was all right, even if she was pretty sure that it wasn’t going to last. This had to be some sort of a spell. All she needed to do was figure out how to undo it, and she could have her life back.

If she wanted it.

“Don’t worry about it,” Janice said. “That’s what I’m here for.”

#

  
**28: Lest We Forget.**

“Mom?” Marnie opened the front door and looked around the living room, frowning. “Mom, are you home?”

“She went to the store.” Marnie turned to see Sophie sitting on the stairs, still in her nightgown, with her hands tucked between her knees. “I’m the only one here.”

“Sophie, don’t sneak up on me like that. You startled me.” Marnie put her backpack down, closing the door. “We’ve got a problem. No one at school was making fun of me today. It’s like--”

“Like they don’t remember that you’re a witch?”

Marnie paused. “Exactly. How did you...?”

“We’ve got a bigger problem than you think. Come upstairs.” Sophie stood. “I don’t want Mom walking in on us.”

“Sophie, what’s going on?”

“Just come on.” Sophie led Marnie up the stairs and into her room, closing the door once her older sister was inside. A small selection of magical tools was stacked on Sophie’s bed--mostly hand-me-downs from Marnie or Grandma Aggie. Things they didn’t need anymore, that a budding witch could use.

“All right, Sophie,” Marnie said, pulling the chair away from Sophie’s desk and sitting down. “Spill.”

Sophie sat down on the edge of the bed, and said, simply, “Mom’s forgotten about Halloweentown.”

“What?” Marnie stared at her, suddenly feeling like she’d been hit in the stomach. “That’s...that’s not possible.”

“It is,” Sophie said, grimly. “When I told her I was sick, she asked if I was having a relapse. Because _she_ thinks I was sick last night, and so you--”

“Didn’t go to the prom. That’s what Janice said, too. That I’d been home taking care of you, so I didn’t go.”

Sophie nodded. “She thinks I had a cold, and you stayed home because she had to go to PTA and you didn’t feel good either. I asked her about Luke, and she didn’t even know who he was. So I asked about Halloweentown...”

“And she didn’t know about that, either.” Marnie shook her head, stunned.

“She thought it was a story that she used to tell me when I was small. From a _storybook_. Not a real place ever at all.”

“What’s going on, Sophie? Why is this happening?”

“I don’t know. But it’s spreading.” Sophie indicated the pile of things in the middle of her bed. “I had more than this, but it was stuff in drawers and corners, where I couldn’t see it. And when I went to collect it, it was gone. Now I’m keeping everything where I can keep an eye on it, but I’m not sure how long that’s going to help. Not if Mom’s forgotten completely.”

“It’s not just Mom,” Marnie said, looking down. “It’s everyone at my school. And a little bit, I think it’s me.”

“What?”

Marnie raised her head. “This morning, I didn’t think to dress, remember? And look at my hands.” She held them up, displaying her chipped and unpolished nails. “Just like they used to be.”

“But...you still remember, right?” Sophie asked, half-frantic. “You remember Halloweentown.”

“I remember everything. But my magic’s going funny, Sophie, and if this is something big enough that Mom’s already forgotten, I don’t know how much longer we’re going to have before...”

“Before what?”

“Before we all forget.” She scanned the heap of witching supplies on Sophie’s bed, and asked, “Is that my old bag of wishing powder?”

“Yeah. You gave it to me, remember?” Then Sophie winced at the unintentional irony of the word “remember,” adding, “Sorry.”

“No, it’s okay. Wishing powder, your training cauldron, broom--which is too small for me anyway--whatever’s in the herb rack downstairs...we don’t have much in the way of supplies.”

“I know.”

“Okay. First things first: Dylan gets home in what, an hour?”

“Right.”

“Get the bag. We’ve got time to open a portal to Halloweentown and let Grandma know what’s going on before he gets here and we pin him down to find out if he remembers.”

“Can we open a portal?”

Marnie rose, expression grim. “There’s only one way to find out. Come on.”

Sophie grabbed the wishing powder and followed Marnie out of the room, closing the door behind herself.

#

**29: Bad Connections.**

“Got that?”

“It sounds like a good spell.”

“Good. Let’s go.”

Marnie and Sophie joined hands, looking at the same spot on the fence as they chanted together, “We call on the power of creature and mortal, to hear us now when we have need. The time has come to grant to us a portal--the time has come when we must act with speed.”

For an instant, the air crackled with the joined energies of their magic, and Marnie frowned; she could clearly feel that most of the strength was coming from Sophie, who should have been at most her equal, and more likely her subordinate in this spell. She had more training and more raw strength, and yet she wasn’t putting off nearly the amount of magical power she should have been able to tap.

Then the crackling faded, and they were still looking at the unchanged fence. No portals or doors had opened; the spell had simply dissipated, wafting away into nothing.

“Marnie...”

“I see it. Get a handful of the wishing powder. We’ll try again.” Wishing power was a standard spell enhancement tool; it could make even a lackluster witch powerful, for a short period of time. Whatever was blocking them would almost certainly break down when they hit with their combined strength backed by the power of a wish.

She hoped.

“All right.” Sophie dug her hand into the bag and tossed a fistful of glittering powder into the air. Tightening her other hand around Marnie’s they began to chant again.

“We call on the power of creature and mortal, the power we share and need today. We must demand that you grant us a portal. Time is grown short, and we must find the way.”

The resulting crackle of power was stronger this time, bolstered by the wishing powder...but Marnie’s contribution was even smaller, almost drowned out under the artificial intensification of the wishing powder. Once again the spell rose, crackled, and faded without making any obvious changes to the world around them.

Marnie sagged. “It didn’t work. Even with the wishing powder, it didn’t work.”

“We can try again...”

“No. There isn’t enough wishing powder, and my power is waning. Look.” Marnie pulled her hands away from Sophia and waved them in the air, saying, “Eversi!”

Nothing happened.

Sophie stared. “But...that’s just a basic fire creation spell. You used to do those in your _sleep_!”

“And now I can’t do them at all,” Marnie said grimly. “My magic is going out like a jack-o-lantern the morning after Halloween.”

“But why is this _happening_?”

“I don’t know. At least your magic’s still strong. With my training and your power, we can...”

The back door banged open, and Gwen Piper was suddenly standing there, glaring at them. “Marnie and Sophie Piper, _what_ do you think you’re doing outside in those clothes when you’re both _sick_?”

“Sorry, Mom,” they said in unison, turning.

“We were trying to open a port--” Sophie began. Marnie clapped a hand over her sister’s mouth, smiling wanly.

“We just wanted to get some fresh air without making our bedrooms too cold by opening the window,” she said.

“Marnie, it’s the middle of summer. Your rooms wouldn’t get cold,” Gwen said, folding her arms. “Now both of you, get back inside. I will _not_ have you missing the end of the school year because you were busy playing in the backyard like a couple of grade schoolers.”

“Sorry, Mom,” Marnie said again, and trailed into the house, shoulders slumped.

“Sorry,” Sophie echoed, and followed her.

Gwen waited for them both to get inside, then shut the door, saying, “Really, I understand cabin fever, but I need you to get _better_ before you make yourselves worse.”

“We were wearing shoes,” Marnie said, stopping in the kitchen. “Mom? Do things seem a little...off...to you today?”

“You mean, ‘did I come home to find my two daughters who are home sick from school standing in the backyard without coats on’? Why yes, I did.”

“She means funny like wrong,” Sophie said, quickly.

Gwen frowned. “Wrong? What would be wrong?”

Marnie took a deep breath. “Mom? Have you ever heard of a place called Halloweentown?”

“Oh, Marnie,” Gwen said, sudden understanding sweeping across her expression. “Did you have that dream again?”

Marnie and Sophie exchanged a quick glance, and Marnie looked back to her mother, asking, “What dream?”

“The one about Halloweentown. Honey, I know you miss Grandma. I miss her too. But you shouldn’t dwell on these things every time you get sick.” Gwen moved to rest her hand on Marnie’s shoulder, lightly. “It’s not healthy, sweetie. It worries me.”

“Not healthy?” Marnie stared at her mother, a disturbing thought starting to grow in her mind. “Mom...what do you mean?”

“I mean that it’s all right to miss your grandmother, but she’s been dead for ten years now. It’s time to move on.” Gwen sighed. “She was my mother. It’s hard for me too. But you have to. For everyone’s sake.”

Marnie sat down at the kitchen table, hard, still staring at Gwen. “What? Grandma Aggie’s not dead, she’s--”

“Marnie, your grandmother died ten years ago, in a car crash, when she was on her way to pick you up from the Halloween party at your school.” Gwen’s voice was serious, and firm. “You do this every time you’re stressed, sweetie, but it’s time to stop. Look what it does to your sister.”

Sophie looked like she was on the verge of tears, her hands balled into fists against her sides. She shook her head when Gwen gestured toward her, saying, “It’s not true. It’s _not true_!” before she turned and bolted for the stairs.

Gwen looked back to Marnie, frowning deeply now. “See? Marnie, grow up. Move on. We can’t keep tearing this family apart. Sophie, wait!” She ran after her younger daughter, vanishing up the stairs.

Marnie stayed where she was, turning to look blankly out the window into the backyard. Dead? Grandma Aggie, dead? Halloweentown--just a childhood fantasy?

“No,” she whispered. “No, she’s wrong...”

But the world gave her no answers.

#

**30: Bad Connections, Part II.**

Agatha Cromwell stormed into the house and sat down at her kitchen table, muttering to herself as she went. “Suddenly Kalabar was a hero and my Marnie -- all my grandchildren--were criminals for helping to ban him? Bah. This town would never have lasted this long without the Cromwell line, and now they’re trying to gloss it all over with fairy tales and lies. You’d think they’d know better by now.”

She clapped her hands together, and her crystal ball appeared, glowing from within with the faint luminescence that indicated a missed call. “Hmm. Wonder who that could be from?” Tapping the crystal twice, she attempted to summon the associated memory charm. Instead of the expected message, however, she got a brief impression of Marnie, and the crystal went dark.

“That’s odd,” she said, frowning. “Why wouldn’t Marnie leave a message? She knows I hate hang-ups. Well. I’ll just call back and see what she wants.” She tapped the pattern for Marnie’s crystal ball quickly against the side of her own, and waited.

The crystal glittered, and then went dark again, this time stating in a buzzing, inhuman voice, “The crystal you are trying to reach has been disconnected or is no longer in service. Please check your connection spells and try again.”

Aggie’s frown deepened. “Disconnected? I should say not.” She tapped the pattern again, but this time, the crystal didn’t so much as glitter.

“That’s not right,” she said, rising. “That’s not right at all. Marnie--something must be wrong in the mortal world!” Recalling her broom into her hand, she started for the door once more. She wanted room to fly before she opened a portal.

Whatever was happening, it was starting to gain speed. She needed to act before it was too late.

#

**31: Forget-Me-Not.**

Marnie rose when Gwen finally came back down the stairs, saying flatly, “I’m going up to my room.”

“Yes, you do that,” Gwen said, voice tightly controlled and angry. “And you just think about why your sister is crying. I’m going to go get your brother.”

“Yes, Mom.” Marnie walked slowly up the stairs, straightening when she was out of sight and darting over to Sophie’s door. “Sophie?”

The door opened, revealing Sophie’s tear-stained face. “Are you alone?”

“Mom’s going to get Dylan. And we’re in trouble.”

“More trouble?”

“I started checking the kitchen for my backup witching tools, and I realized I couldn’t even remember what they were.” Marnie’s lips were a thin, hard line. “I’m forgetting things. And now that I know I’m forgetting, I can feel it happening. It’s moving faster all the time.”

“But what are we going to do?”

“Do you still have the wishing powder?” Sophie held up the bag, mutely, and Marnie reached out to take it from her. “Good. Come on.”

“Where are we going?” Sophie asked, as she left her room and followed Marnie down the hall.

“You’re going to wait out here,” Marnie said, stopping in front of the door that led to the attic stairs. “If Mom or Dylan tries to come in here looking for me, stall them as long as you can.”

“What are you going to do?”

Marnie held up the bag, and said, “My magic isn’t working very well, but we have a little bit of wishing powder left. That should be enough I’m going to see if I can make the crystal ball work, and call Grandma to come help.”

“Okay,” Sophie said, gravely. “Good luck.”

“Thanks.” Marnie turned and climbed the attic stairs, turning on the light as she slipped inside. The changes that were sweeping through the rest of the house hadn’t reached this far--or at least not yet. The crystal ball was still sitting on its small, velvet-draped table at the center of the room, untouched. She moved to pull out the chair in front of it and sit, digging her hand into the bag of wishing powder. It was almost empty; even turning the bag upside-down and shaking it into her hand barely yielded enough to cover her palm.

Marnie looked at the small pile of glittering white powder, and shook her head. “This really _is_ my last shot,” she said. “All right. That just means it has to work.” She turned, tossing the last of the wishing powder into the air above the crystal before she could change her mind. “Crystal, show me my grandmother! I need to speak to Halloweentown!”

Even as she spoke, she realized that the incantation wasn’t right; it sounded more like the sort of “spell” she’d tried to cast before she knew she was really a witch than the polished and practiced creations she’d learned from her grandmother. Still, it seemed to be working, at least a little bit: the clear surface of the stone rippled, then began to glow with fuzzy bands of dimly realized color. It was like looking into a badly tuned television. The picture was dim and half-visible at best, flickering in and out and swimming with static.

Slamming the heel of her hand against the stone, Marnie was able to get the image to stop vanishing, although the outlines didn’t get any clearer; this was as good as it was going to get.

The picture showed a standard Halloweentown afternoon, all the ghouls and ghosts and monsters out about their business in the eternal October sun. She scanned the crowd, looking for--she wasn’t entirely sure what she was looking for, anymore. Someone that she could call for help. Someone that would understand what was going on.

As she searched the image for someone who could help her, she realized that more than half the faces were unfamiliar to her, and somehow, that just frightened her more. Who was the skeleton in the yellow cab? Should she know him? And the ghosts in school uniforms--were they people she had met before, or was she going crazy? It was like looking at a picture she hadn’t seen in years, all blurry and half-realized.

She was forgetting Halloweentown. She was really and truly forgetting it.

The picture started to flicker again, and she smacked the crystal with the heel of her hand, forcing the rolling to stop. The picture was even fuzzier now; the connection was dying, and she had no more wishing powder. When the light went out, that was it.

“Why is this _happening_?” she asked aloud, blinking back tears. “What’s going on?”

The crystal gave no answer, but a familiar figure--red jacket, orange hair, rippled gray-green skin--walked into view, shoulders hunched and head down, obviously annoyed with the world even through the fuzzy picture.

“Luke?” Marnie whispered, pressing her hands against the crystal ball. There was no sign that he could hear her; viewing crystals usually weren’t two-way. Still, she could hope...

Beating her hands against the crystal, she started to shout. “Luke! _Luke!_ It’s Marnie, I can’t reach you, I can’t get through, the door won’t open! Help, please, Luke, help me! I can’t get through! I can’t--”

The picture winked out. Sobbing, Marnie fell back in her chair, staring into the now-empty glass. That was it. That had been her last chance: she had no more magic, and her memories were fading faster than she could try to hold onto them. Dimly, she thought that she should be writing things down, but dismissed the idea. If she found the notes later, she’d just think she’d been writing a fantasy story, like the picture book her grandmother had shown her on that fateful Halloween night.

It was over. After all the years, and all her hard work, it was finally over. She’d never go back to Halloweentown.

She’d never go home again.

She was still sitting there, staring bleakly into space when her mother climbed the attic stairs and opened the door half an hour later, despite Sophie’s protests. “Marnie? Are you in here, honey? Oh, Marnie--what’s wrong?”

Marnie turned toward the door, wiping her eyes, and managed a wan smile. “You were right. I just miss Grandma. That’s all.”

“Yeah. It’s always hard this time of year, isn’t it? I’m sorry I yelled at you. I shouldn’t have done it, but I’m just so tired of us grieving over and over again.” Gwen’s eyes went to the crystal ball on the table, and she added, “Getting her old things out probably doesn’t help. Maybe it’s time we packed these away for good.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Marnie said, wiping her eyes again as she stood. “They were good toys when I was a kid, but...I’m too old to play witches now. I just miss her.”

“So do I, Marnie,” Gwen said, as she led her daughter out of the room and clicked off the light.

“So do I.”

#

**32: Homecoming.**

A cold wind blew across the Halloweentown square. People stopped what they had been doing, little tasks and casual conversations forgotten as they looked toward the crackling blue-black portal that had opened on the square’s far side. A murmur ran through the crowd: what was going on? What was this? The Cromwells tended to open portals in and out on a regular basis, yes, but they were never so black, or so raw--they never disrupted commerce. They...

In the great pumpkin that stood at the center of the square, the flame of Halloweentown flickered and blew out. One of the schoolgirl ghosts screamed, falling backward against and then through the wall of the store behind her. The other two clung to each other, staring wide-eyed at the suddenly unlit lantern. All around the square people were turning to stare, ignoring the way the sky above them was darkening. As the flame went, so went Halloweentown; they knew this, and they were afraid.

A delicate foot stepped out of the portal, clad in a pine-green boot and followed by an equally delicate leg wrapped in the tattered hem of a rag-cut green taffeta gown. Perryn smiled as she moved fully through the portal, reaching back with one green-gloved hand to take Kalabar’s half-solid fingers in her own, and pull him through.

When his boot heels hit the cobblestones of the square, half-solid though he was, the flame within the pumpkin burst back into life, now burning a dark, smoky green. The crowd froze for a moment, and then turned away, going back to their business as if nothing had changed. It was just the Mayor and his wife taking a portal in, after all, probably returning from a visit to their son at boarding school. There was nothing unusual about that.

“Home,” Perryn breathed, the broken stumps of her wings vibrating in an instinctive attempt at flight.

“Home,” Kalabar agreed, his insubstantial fingers sliding through hers. “And this time, nothing can take it away from us.”

Side by side, they walked through the uncaring crowds of people going about their business, and into City Hall.

Home.

#

**33: Trapped.**

The dark clouds gathering overhead had not failed to attract Agatha Cromwell’s attention--but for the moment, she had better things to worry about. She had been trying to open a portal back to the mortal world for three solid hours, and the only place she was getting was nowhere.

Even with the worlds as interconnected as they now were, time ran faster in the mortal realm. What seemed like hours to her might well be days for her family on the other side of the wall that separated their world from hers; days in which they’d have no idea what was going on, or why she didn’t reply to any contacts that they tried to make. Marnie normally visited her for lessons or just out of casual affection almost every day, but she hadn’t heard from her at all since the night of the prom.

This was bad.

Waving her hands in the air, she squared her shoulders and intoned, “By the secret laws that I command, the powers of the sky and land, I order you to wait no more--unleash the portal and the door!”

Magic gathered at her fingertips, crackling and gleaming in the air. The sky overhead grew darker, the clouds knotting together to hide the last of the blue, and somewhere distant, thunder rolled. She brought her hands down.

The magic snapped and faded away, leaving the air unchanged.

For a moment, Agatha simply stared. “That’s not...that’s not possible,” she said, voice sounding very small. “I’ve tried every spell and every incantation I know, and nothing’s _working_ \--and that’s not _possible_! Do you hear me, world? That’s not _possible_!”

Possible or not, nothing seemed to be changing. The distant thunder rolled again, and Agatha looked up.

“It’s going to rain soon,” she said. “I’d better get back inside. Something’s wrong. Something is very, very wrong.” Her sense of what the wrongness really meant was fading by the moment, and that frightened her even more. In her experience, nothing that changed the way you viewed the world meant well.

Grabbing her broom, she slung one leg across it and kicked off from the ground, flying home just ahead of the rain.

#

**34: Ordinary Day, Part III.**

The sound of alarm clocks ringing in sequence started a normal day in the Piper household. First came Gwen’s, waking her fifteen minutes before Marnie’s alarm went off and giving her time to use the bathroom and start fixing breakfast. Living in a house with two teenagers and a preteen daughter had taught her a substantial amount about time management.

Marnie’s alarm went off promptly at six-thirty, as it did every morning, and she smacked the snooze button with one hand, rolling out of bed in the same motion. She used to sleep until seven, before high school, but these days, she needed the extra half-hour to get herself groomed, dressed and ready to go. More and more, she was dreaming of the day that she’d go away to college and not need to share the bathroom with her siblings.

By the time Dylan’s alarm went off at six-forty-five, Marnie was in the shower and singing along to her portable radio, off-key. Grumbling, he sat up, fumbling around on his bedside table until his hand found the earpiece of his glasses. Eyes still squinted halfway-shut, he staggered to his feet, tugging on the neck of the T-shirt he’d worn to bed the night before, and moved toward his computer. Email always made the mornings easier to bear.

Sophie’s alarm rang at seven. She hit it automatically, silencing the buzzing, and then froze, staring at the time. She’d been setting it for seven-thirty, same as Marnie, ever since she’d learned the truth about her magical heritage. Why should she shower when a simple spell would do the trick?

But the time on her clock’s display didn’t change, and she could hear the other members of her family moving around outside, all of them up at least half an hour too early. Feeling distinctly uneasy, Sophie rose and tugged on her robe before stepping out into the hall, only to be nearly bowled over by Marnie as she went rushing by, a towel wrapped around her head.

Marnie had taken a shower. Sophie stared, too amazed to be truly horrified. Marnie hated going to school with damp hair; she hadn’t taken a shower in the morning since...

“Oh, no,” Sophie whispered, and darted forward, grabbing her sister’s arm. “Marnie?”

“Sophie, what do you want?” Marnie yanked her arm free, glaring at her younger sister. “I have to get ready for school.”

“But--yesterday, in the attic--did you--?”

“Did I _what_? I got into all Grandma Aggie’s old things, and Mom found me crying.” Marnie’s mouth thinned, becoming a small, tight line. “I know you miss her, Sophie, but we need to stop playing around, okay? It’s time to let her go.”

“But Halloweentown--”

“There’s no such place.”

“Marnie--”

“Grow up, Sophie. Halloweentown was just a story Grandma Aggie used to tell us at bedtime. It’s time to let go.” Marnie turned and stalked down the hall to her bedroom, slamming the door behind her. Sophie stared after her for a long moment before she whirled, bolting back into her bedroom.

The layout of the room had shifted only subtly during the night; her bed was closer to the window, taking up the space that had been previously occupied by a narrow bookshelf of notebooks and manuals of witchcraft. Most of the books had already been gone by the time she went to bed the night before: that didn’t scare her as much as the thought of other, unseen changes

Yanking open her desk drawers, she emptied them one by one onto the floor, rooting through their contents with anxious, trembling fingers. The magical tools she’d concealed there the night before, when Mom caught Marnie in the attic, were still mostly there. A few of the smaller items--the charms, the empty bag of wishing powder--were gone, but she still had the thing she needed most.

She still had her headphone.

The skull-shaped communications device was one of Grandma’s inventions, designed to cut across the walls between Halloweentown and the mortal world. Marnie had never liked them much--she said they were too cheesy, and once the portals were opened permanently, they stopped being useful--but Sophie was willing to deal with what little she had to work with.

She’d suspected that Marnie had finally forgotten completely when she didn’t say anything at dinner; their encounter in the hall had just confirmed it. And now Sophie’s own memories were starting to get fuzzy, and she wasn’t sure that she could trust herself to know what needed to be done for much longer.

When she forgot, it was all going to be over. Whatever was causing this--whatever was changing the world around her--it couldn’t be good, either for the Cromwell clan or for Halloweentown. She had to stop it. Any way that she could.

“Mom?” Sophie called, standing and starting for the door. “Mommy, I still don’t feel good...”

#

**35: Sea Changes.**

“Perryn, look.”

Perryn turned, lowering the gown that she’d been holding against herself for sizing, and smiled a slow, wicked smile as she saw that Kalabar was holding a walking stick on his open palms. If she squinted, she could just see that the stick was drifting a bit below the surface of his hands--but it was a very slight dip, and it was fading even as she watched.

“The last of the Cromwell brats is forgetting,” she said, tone smug. “You’re almost entirely solid.”

“How long?”

“Not long now. If you’re this close to being yourself again...the family will be no danger to us. There’s no one left that cares about them enough to remember.”

“No one left but us,” Kalabar said, and smiled.

In the square outside, people walked a little faster, moving past the dark-eyed pumpkin as they raced to get back to their homes before the coming of the inevitable storms.

#

**36: Moving On.**

Luke opened the door of his home beneath the tangled tree roots, looking out on the dark and cloudy sky. It had already rained twice, and the path was thick with mud. “Figures,” he muttered. The weather suited his mood well enough, but it also made things inconvenient. He wasn’t about to walk to the Town Square to do his shopping with the chance of rain hanging over his head like that. Goblins weren’t overly bothered by things like muck and mud, as a rule, but he didn’t exactly enjoy being wet.

“I already had a shower this week,” he said, and closed the door again. Getting ready for the prom--disaster though it had proved to be--had required bathing and scrubbing away layers of dirt that he’d had so long that they were very nearly part of him. He felt half-naked, even dressed, without his concealing grime.

Not that it really mattered. He could go out and roll in the mud outside if he wanted to, get himself well and truly filthy; Marnie wouldn’t care. She’d set him up as a joke...

Luke stopped, frowning. “Why would she set me up when they laughed at her, too?” he asked aloud. Sure, using someone else to make yourself look better made sense--it wasn’t even uncommon among certain creatures in Halloweentown. A lot of the goblins he’d known growing up had been masters of the art of insulting others to make themselves seem less pathetic. He’d even done it, when he felt like he needed to.

But there were rules. You never did it to anyone you wanted to stay friends with, and you never did it when you might get caught in the backlash. Marnie had been seen in public with him for too long before the illusion dropped: no matter how she tried to spin things, she’d get laughed at too. And those boys hadn’t acted like they were kidding when they spilled the punch on her before.

Maybe she’d been serious when she said that she hadn’t done it on purpose. Maybe something was really wrong.

Outside, the sound of thunder split the distant air, and the rain began to fall again. Luke looked back over his shoulder, and sighed. “Right.” As soon as the weather cleared up, he’d go and see Agatha. If anyone would know what had really happened, it would be her. He found himself hoping perversely that she would tell him that illusion spells dropped all the time; it hadn’t been Marnie’s fault, and he’d have to apologize, and maybe she’d hate him, but it wouldn’t have been her fault...

Sitting down on the edge of the bed, Luke waited.

#

**37: Visiting Rights.**

A knock at the door startled Agatha out of the study of her spell book, and she rose, calling, “Who’s there?” as she moved to answer it.

The reply from the other side was amused, if muffled by the sound of falling rain: “It’s Perryn, dear. Do let me in--it’s soaking out here.”

Deep inside Agatha something screamed, and was quickly quashed as the growing power of the wish exerted itself over her. In an instant, the last of her questions were gone, wiped out by the certain knowledge that Perryn was on her porch, and had every right to be there, asking permission to come in out of the rain.

The world had changed. And Halloweentown—along with all the Cromwell witches--had changed with it.

“Perryn!” Agatha opened the door, pasting a false smile across her face. Ever since Kalabar had taken her to be his bride, the fairy godmother had been putting on airs--as if being the wife of the mayor of Halloweentown was something like being royalty. As if she weren’t his second choice for the position.

On the porch, Perryn smiled. She was dressed in her usual green, colors chosen to accent and emphasize the natural green of her hair, and had a long green and gold cloak draped over her shoulders, hiding the stumps of her wings. She saw recognition in Agatha’s expression, but no surprise; the witch wasn’t questioning what the banished, de-winged wife of Halloweentown’s most infamous mayor was doing on her porch.

_We’re existing in different realities now, Agatha,_ she thought, smugly. _And in your world, mine never happened at all, did it? No. No, I don’t believe it did..._

Aloud, she said, “May I come in?”

“Yes, of course,” Agatha said, moving out of the way. Fairy godmothers were something like vampires in that they needed to be invited into your home--unless you had children, of course. They needed no invitation to go to the side of any child that might have a wish to make.

When Gwen was a girl, before she ran off to marry that mortal man and stay in his world forever, her presence had been enough to allow Perryn free passage. Now...Agatha paused, frowning, and finally said, “May I get you anything?”

Perryn let her expression fall into one of troubled concern, and asked, “I’m sorry--I’m not bringing back bad memories, am I?”

“What?”

“Gwen and the children--the accident. I know I remind you of the children--bless them, I could come here so much more freely when they were here...”

It only took a moment for Aggie’s face to crumple as the new memories took hold. Perryn knew full well what she was remembering: after all, in order for the Piper family to have a normal existence, they needed a respite from Halloweentown. So both sides of the equation had to believe that the other had been destroyed, leaving them with no reason to contact one another.

Part of the job of being a proper fairy godmother was thinking of all the things that could go wrong with a wish, and patching them up as well as could be done. There was always a loophole--wishes couldn’t be wished without some sort of escape clause--but if she did her job well, the loopholes never got found. And she got to destroy a lot of happy lives in the process of guaranteeing her very own happily ever after.

Sometimes she loved her work.

“Oh, yes,” Agatha said, very nearly whispering.

“It was just this time of year, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was.” Agatha looked away. “What brings you here, Perryn?”

“Kalabar was worried about you,” Perryn replied, watching her reaction carefully. Agatha stiffened, and then relaxed again, any objections to the name quickly quashed under the weight of her new reality. “He didn’t want to come himself--he was afraid of stirring up even more unpleasant recollections than I would.” And he wasn’t entirely solid yet; somehow they hadn’t thought that having him sink through Agatha’s floor would help them sell their message of the new order.

“That was very kind of him,” Agatha replied. “Tell him I’m fine, although I do appreciate his concern.”

“But are you fine, Agatha? Are you really?”

Agatha looked back to Perryn, and smiled a small, sad smile, suddenly looking terribly old. “I’m the last of the Cromwell witches, Perryn; I’m going to be the final survivor of a dynasty that has endured since Halloweentown began. Under the circumstances, I think I’m just as fine as I can possibly be.”

“Yes,” Perryn replied, with a wide, much more predatory smile, “I think you’re probably right about that.”

Outside, the rain continued to fall.

#

**38: Emergency Numbers.**

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay, sweetie?” Gwen asked, pressing the damp cloth against Sophie’s forehead.

“I’ll be fine, Mom,” Sophie said, giving her what she hoped was a brave smile. “I just still feel sort of pukey. I’d rather _stay_ home than get _sent_ home.”

“I understand completely, honey. I don’t like being sick in front of other people either.” Gwen sat back, the concern not leaving her face as she asked, “You’ll call if you need anything?”

“Promise.”

“All right. I’ll call the school and let them know that you won’t be coming in today. If you’re not feeling better by tomorrow, we’re going to call the doctor. Fair?”

“Fair,” Sophie agreed, doing her best to sound pathetic. She was worried enough about what might be happening in Halloweentown that it wasn’t really all that hard. If they’d all forgotten, what was going on with Grandma? Did she even realize that they were in trouble? Time passed so much faster in the mortal world--weeks could go by before Grandma Aggie even knew that they were in trouble.

“All right, sweetie. Get some rest.” Gwen kissed her on the cheek and rose, heading out of the room and into the hall. Sophie waited until the door was firmly shut, then listened for the sound of footsteps descending the stairs.

One thing she’d learned early from watching Dylan and Marnie was that you should never believe you were getting away with it until you heard the car start. Mom was incredibly sensitive to the sound of supposedly sick children moving around in their bedrooms. She waited another ten minutes, and was rewarded with the sound of the garage door opening and closing again, followed by a car pulling out of the driveway. Gwen was on her way to work.

Just to be safe, Sophie waited another five minutes before she climbed out of bed, counting down on the digital clock on her bedside table. When the last minute had passed and she was sure that she was safe, she slid out from under the covers and pulled her small pile of remaining magical supplies out into the open.

A few more of trinkets had vanished while she was convincing her mother that she was sick--the divining rod, a silver luck charm that Luke had given her for Christmas--but the things that mattered were still there. The empty bag.

The headphone. It would connect to every other headphone Agatha had made once she started to talk, allowing her to contact anyone that had one near them--assuming theirs were powered up. Grandma Aggie had one; so did Marnie, and Dylan...and Luke. Frankly, she’d be happy if _anyone_ heard her message.

Picking up the headphone with trembling hands, Sophie settled cross-legged on the carpet and held it up to her face, noting that the power was already low. It wouldn’t last for long once she started talking. 

But there was no other choice. The spells she had set to run on her room were disintegrating, when they weren’t gone entirely, and she could barely feel the ones that were still there. Her instruction manuals were missing, and there were holes in her memory of the spells she’d long since stopped needing books for; if she could make her magic work at all, she was terrified that it would work _wrong_.

Having the headphone die on her was a risk she was going to have to take; it was that or sit and wait for the magic to fade away completely on its own. Clearing her throat, Sophie said, “Hello, this is Sophie Piper, daughter of Gwen Piper of the Cromwell witches. I need help. Please respond. I need help...”

#

**39: Testing.**

“Well?” Kalabar demanded, as Perryn stepped back into his office. “Did she suspect?”

“Not a thing,” Perryn replied. “Close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“Because my magic only makes changes when no one’s looking.” Her smile was small, almost dreamy. “If you can’t see, you’ll see what the spell wants you to. It’s remaking this world...”

“I know that,” he said, angrily. “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Close your eyes, my love, and I’ll show you.”

Glaring at her as he did, Kalabar closed his eyes and turned away. Perryn’s smile widened.

“No one can see me,” she said, raising her hands and starting to untie the cloak around her neck. “But I know what she expected to see...” The knot slipped loose, and her cloak pooled around her feet as it fell.

And Perryn opened her wings.

The sound was reminiscent of silk tearing; Kalabar opened his eyes and turned back toward her, staring as she fanned them slowly, a broad smile upon her face. “She expected to see my wings,” she said, quietly.

They were diaphanous and thin, shaped somewhat like larger versions of a mayfly’s wings--three pairs in all, top, middle and bottom. They cast prism-specks of light across the floor as she fanned them once more and folded them, their tips nearly brushing her knees. There was no way they could have lifted her without magic, Kalabar knew, but the natural magic of a fairy godmother in the prime of her power was more than enough to make up for a little unwieldiness in wing-shape.

“You are restored,” he breathed.

“I am.”

“But what about...”

“You, my love?” Perryn began to walk toward him, and Kalabar stepped back, aware that for the moment, she was a fairy godmother uncrippled and unrestrained, while he was still merely a warlock separated from most of his power. Under normal circumstances, she couldn’t have threatened him at all. But now...

He was planning to betray her. What if he wasn’t alone in that?

Putting her hands on his still semisolid shoulders, Perryn’s smile sharpened, taking on a predatory edge. “Close your eyes.”

Kalabar looked at her for a long moment, unsure of how to proceed. He didn’t want to trust her; he didn’t want to trust anyone. But they had come so far, and he was so close...and he had no other choice.

Kalabar closed his eyes.

Perryn kissed him.

#

**40: Making Connections.**

Luke was stretched out on his bed listening to the rain when the headphone Marnie had given him for his birthday crackled to life, starting to speak. “...respond. I need help. This is Sophie Piper. Does anybody hear me?”

The voice was recognizable, if somewhat distorted and tinny; it sounded like it was coming from a long way away. Pushing himself upright, Luke reached up and snagged the headphone from the shelf above his bed, bringing it down to his face. The mouth of the tiny skull was moving, sluggishly, as it spoke to him. He looked at it somewhat warily. After his experience at the prom, he wasn’t sure that he was ready to deal with another Cromwell witch. Not until he’d had a chance to speak to Aggie.

But she sounded so desperate. “Please help. I need someone to respond. Please...”

The honest fear in her voice decided him. Clearing his throat, he said, “Sophie, is that you? It’s Luke.”

On Sophie’s end, the previously dormant headphone in her hand suddenly began to speak, mouthing his words. It was all she could do to keep herself from crying with joy as she replied, “Yes, Luke, yes, it’s me. Please don’t go away. Please stay...”

“I’m not going anywhere--Sophie, what’s wrong? Why do you sound so far away?”

“Because the headphone I have is almost out of power,” she said. “It’s probably going to die completely soon, and then I don’t know _what_ I’m going to do.”

“Well, can’t you just recharge it?” Luke didn’t use his headphone much, but he still knew that they needed recharging periodically; Marnie had done it twice since she’d given it to him, both times when she’d just dropped by for a visit.

“I can’t remember how,” Sophie admitted, sounding frightened and ashamed. Luke sat up straight on the bed, his eyes widening as she continued, “I know that Grandma taught me how, and I know I can do it, I just...can’t remember. I can’t remember _any_ spells right now, and the ones I had set to keep running in my room are falling apart. My magic is all funny.” Her memory was fading even faster now that she was on the headphone, like the trinket was draining it away. But she didn’t dare break the connection: she didn’t dare move.

Luke would help her. Luke had to be able help her. Because if he didn’t, there wasn’t time to reach anyone else before the headphone died and she forgot completely.

Luke swallowed hard, and started to ask, “Can’t Marnie...”

“Marnie doesn’t remember how either,” Sophie said, voice dropping until he could barely hear it. “She forgot faster than I did--not as fast as Dylan, but fast. She doesn’t remember magic, or being a witch...or anything about Halloweentown. She doesn’t even remember _you_ , Luke. She forgot it all.”

He froze, staring at the headphone. The mouth continued to move, accompanied by the sound of Sophie’s distant, tinny voice, but he was suddenly having trouble focusing on the words. “She thinks Grandma died in a car crash, she doesn’t remember anything about the Cromwell family line or saving Halloweentown or anything. She thinks she’s just normal Marnie Piper, and she always has been, and she always will be. And so does everybody else.”

“What about your mother?” Luke asked, almost frantically. He knew that Gwen was nearly as powerful as Marnie, when she put her mind to it, and she’d been trained as the heir to the Cromwell line for centuries. Surely she remembered. She had to.

“She forgot before Marnie did, just like Dylan. We tried to call Grandma when we couldn’t open a portal, but it didn’t get through before things went funny. Now Marnie can’t remember, and things are starting to get fuzzy in my head too, and I’m scared.” He realized, to his dismay, that she was crying. “I think I’m going to forget everything next, just as soon as the rest of my magic goes. And then it’s going to be over. For good.”

“But why is this _happening_?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know at all. It’s got to be a spell. I can’t open the gate to Halloweentown--it won’t work for me, and it wouldn’t work for Marnie either, before she...when she still remembered. Will you go to Grandma and tell her what’s going on? Tell her that we’re in trouble?”

“Sure, Sophie--sure. You just hang on there, okay? Don’t let go. I’ll be as fast as I can.”

“I’m doing the best I can. I just--it’s so _strange_ , Luke. Everything is normal, and they act like it’s supposed to be that way. It’s like they can’t even--” The headphone in his hand stopped speaking mid-sentence, the light in its eyes going out as the jaw slowly drifted back to the closed position.

“Sophie?” he said. There was no response. More loudly, he repeated, “ _Sophie_?!” There was still no answer; the headphone on her end was dead. If his was still transmitting, she didn’t hear it.

Snarling, he threw the headphone across the room, where it hit the china cabinet that Marnie had been so enthralled with when she invited him to her prom. It rebounded and rolled a few feet across the floor before drifting to a stop and just lying there, inanimate and unresponsive. Whatever was going on, Sophie couldn’t help him anymore; she couldn’t even hear him. And Marnie...

Marnie was in trouble.

The thought crystallized in his mind, suddenly becoming real: Marnie was in trouble. She’d forgotten about Halloweentown and the Cromwell witches, she’d forgotten her magic and the way that it had changed her life...

And she’d forgotten about him. He slumped, staring hopelessly at the silenced headphone and wondering if this might not be something that she’d done on purpose. After everything that had happened at the dance, and before the dance, she might have been glad to forget about him and get back to living a normal life. They wouldn’t laugh at her anymore. Not if she wasn’t a witch.

“I shouldn’t have stormed out on her,” he said. “I shouldn’t have gone away and left her alone, I should have let her finish whatever she was going to say, I should have believed in her, I should...”

He stopped. If he didn’t go to find out what was really going on, she was _never_ going to tell him what had really happened--he’d never know whether or not it had been a genuine accident. Sophie was right. If they all forgot, it would be over. He’d never see Marnie again.

It would all end forever, and he’d never see her smile again, or get ordered to do something senselessly dangerous, or anything. His life with the Cromwell witches would just stop. And he couldn’t let that happen.

“Hang on, Marnie,” he muttered, standing and heading for the door. “I’m coming as fast as I can.”

#

**41: Thicker Than Water.**

“Missus Cromwell?” Luke pounded on Agatha’s front door, his normally bushy orange hair plastered down by the rain. “Agatha, are you here?”

He was starting to fear that whatever had affected the rest of the Cromwells had somehow taken Agatha away when the living room light clicked on and the door opened. “Can I help you, young man?”

“Missus Cromwell?” Luke let his hand drop, his mild fear transforming into utter shock as he stared at the woman in front of him. She looked almost impossibly older than she had the day before; the lines in her face were deeper, and her hair was solid white, brushed without any of her normal care or concern. “Is that you?”

“I’m sorry--do I know you?” Agatha frowned. “It’s so hard to keep track of all you young creatures these days...”

“I’m Luke. Marnie’s friend.”

Agatha’s face crumpled with a brief look of raw, tearing grief. “Marnie...oh, you poor boy. This time of year is always so hard, isn’t it? Please, come in. I’m so sorry to leave you out in the rain.” She stepped aside, letting Luke enter the house.

Suddenly relieved, Luke stepped past her into the living room. “So you know what’s going on? Sophie got through to you?”

“Sophie?” Agatha’s eyes widened. “Has her spirit contacted you? I didn’t think it was possible for ghosts to cross over from the mortal realm into Halloweentown! Oh, Luke, is she at peace?”

“Spirit?” Luke asked blankly. “No--she called me on the headphone.”

“The what?”

“The headphone? You made them last year, so we could communicate between Halloweentown and the mortal realm, and Marnie would stop using your crystal ball to call me when she was bored.”

“What are you saying? I did no such thing!”

“Yes, you did! Marnie gave me one, and Sophie just called me--they’re in trouble, and--”

“Young man...” Agatha shook her head, looking away. “I don’t know what kind of a game you’re trying to play, but it isn’t a funny one. I would appreciate it if you would go, now.”

“But Agatha--”

“My grandchildren are _dead_!” Agatha whirled to face him, mouth drawn into a thin, furious line. “They died with their mother, they died mortal deaths in the mortal realm, and I don’t know why you feel the need to play such a cruel joke, young man, but it is _not_ funny. Leave. Now.”

“No.” Luke swallowed, but held his ground.

“No? I am the last surviving Cromwell witch! I could turn you into--”

“No, you’re not. Please, listen. Sophie said that something was changing her memories--that she was forgetting about Halloweentown, and Marnie had already forgotten. She said--she said they thought you’d died. In a car crash.”

“They’re the ones that died,” Agatha said, in a very small voice. “Someone has played a very cruel joke on you, young man, if you truly believe that they didn’t.”

“I think someone’s playing a joke on all of us,” Luke replied, not looking away from her. Inwardly, he was terrified; she was a Cromwell witch, after all, and if he pushed her too hard, there was no telling what she could do to him...but he didn’t have a choice. If anyone could help him, it was her.

“Young man...”

“My name is Luke.”

“Luke, then--”

“Missus Cromwell, I’m just a goblin: you could probably destroy me without thinking about it. Keeping that in mind...would I have _any_ reason to lie to you? Any reason at all? Your grandchildren are in trouble-- _Marnie_ is in trouble, and maybe it’s selfish of me, but if Marnie’s going to be in trouble, I want to be there with her. I _need_ to be there with her. She needs me.”

Agatha paused, studying Luke’s face. “You’re serious. You truly believe that she’s alive, and that she needs our help.”

“They’re all alive. Even Dylan.”

“I see.” Agatha looked away again, frowning. “It’s so hard to believe. If you’re wrong...”

“If I’m wrong, you’ve already lost them, but I still _have_ them. Help me, please. Help me save your family, if they still exist to be saved.”

Agatha looked back to him, nodding firmly, mouth set in a determined line. “All right, Luke. Let’s do it.

“Let’s save my family.”


	3. A Pearl Beyond Price

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wish has been granted and time is running out as Luke and Agatha race to learn what happened to Marnie and the others.

**42: Ordinary Day, Part IV.**

The headphone was a dead weight in Sophie’s hand, unresponsive, useless. She stared at it for a long before she put it down, bent so that her forehead touched her knees, and started crying in earnest. She wept for her family, for her grandmother, for Halloweentown--and for her own faded and fading memories. She could make them last a little longer if she concentrated on the things she knew to be the truth, but every time her attention slipped, the memories faded just a little more. They were getting away from her.

It was over. She’d reached Luke before the power ran out, and maybe he could do something...but if he couldn’t, then it was really and truly over.

Sophie had been just a little kid when she and her siblings had discovered the truth about Halloweentown. Unlike Marnie and Dylan, who’d believed themselves to be “just like everyone else” for at least part of their lives, she’d always known she was different--and she’d never regretted it. You chose your friends, but you didn’t chose your family, and Sophie had always believed, really believed, that she was lucky to have exactly the family she would have wanted, if anyone had asked her. She was a Cromwell witch. That was all she’d ever wanted to be. Maybe Marnie was the heir to the family legacy, but she was still a part of it.

Only now she was forgetting, and she didn’t know if she would ever get that back again.

“Hurry, Luke,” she whispered, rocking back and forth. “Hurry up. I’ll try to be here when you get back.”

#

**43: Probable Cause.**

“We need to figure out what could have caused this to happen,” Agatha said, stalking back and forth across her living room. Luke did his best to sit as still as possible, watching her. He knew better than to go around poking randomly at things in a witch’s house, even when she was as well inclined toward him as Agatha currently was. He’d had issues with being a goblin for a goodly portion of his life. He didn’t need to suddenly develop issues with being a frog.

Agatha continued to pace, muttering to herself. Luke glanced anxiously around, then--feeling like he had to contribute something if he didn’t want her to throw him out--he suggested, “Magic?”

“Yes, that’s clear, but what _kind_? There’s no witch in this town powerful enough to have done this--not to _me_.” It wasn’t a statement of pride coming from Agatha: just simple fact. She was a Cromwell witch, and when her family had supposedly died, she had been in the height of her powers. There was no one in town who could hold a jack-o-lantern’s candle to her.

“A warlock, maybe?”

“Even on his best day Kalabar couldn’t manage this sort of deception.”

“Yeah, if he was even here,” Luke replied, automatically.

Agatha turned to stare at him. “ _What_ did you say?”

“Um...” Luke swallowed, sitting up straight, and said, “I said Kalabar couldn’t manage this even if he was here.”

“But he _is_ here. He’s the mayor.”

“No, he’s not. You overthrew him--you and Marnie. Well, Dylan and Sophie and Ms. Piper, too, but it was mostly you and Marnie.”

“When did _this_ happen?”

“When he tried to destroy Halloweentown.”

“That’s...that’s not right. We didn’t. He’s the mayor...” Agatha was beginning to look less certain about what she was saying.

Luke pressed the point, leaning forward as he tried to stress his words in a way that she’d believe. “I used to work for him--he made me look like a human, but he couldn’t make me a good person. It took your granddaughter to do that.”

Agatha frowned, slowly. “So you say you’ve become a different person since he was overthrown? You’re not who you were when you worked for him?”

“Well, yeah.” Luke shrugged. “Marnie didn’t like me much when I was a punk.”

“And Marnie’s opinion of you, that matters?”

Luke’s only answer was a mossy blush.

Agatha snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”

“What’s it?”

“Perryn.” Agatha’s expression hardened. “This has to be her doing. It explains why you’re not affected, and why I am. Why, that conniving, underhanded...”

“Excuse me?” Luke raised his hand. “Goblin. Not witch, or warlock, or anything else that would understand what you’re talking about. Could you explain in small words, please?”

“Perryn is Kalabar’s wife, and a former fairy godmother--she was thrown out of the union for misuse of her powers. You see, fairy godmothers are masters of the wish.”

Luke froze. He had never considered that Kalabar must have been married once, even though it made sense. If he hadn’t been, where would Kal have come from? Still... “The wish?”

“Where did you think wishing powder came from? It’s dust fallen from the wings of fairy godmothers. They collect it for the less fortunate, since they can’t be everywhere at once.”

“Oh,” said Luke, still sending baffled.”

Agatha was just getting started. “A true wish can give you anything you wish for--anything at all--and change the world so that you’ve always had the thing you desired. Most fairy godmothers will try to give you what you want, but not Perryn. She always resented the limitations placed on her magic; she hated the fact that we Cromwells--all witches, really--could work our spells at will, while she had to wait until someone made a wish and asked for her magic. She turned mean.” Agatha shook her head. “There’s nothing worse than an evil fairy godmother.”

“But you just said she couldn’t do anything without being asked. How is that so dangerous?”

“Because she can interpret any wish that she hears any way she wants to,” Agatha said. “Say a little boy wishes he were a fireman. Well, she could turn him into a man made of fire, and he’d burn up and go away. Or a little girl might wish for all the candy she can eat, and instead of giving her candy, Perryn could take her mouth away. Then she’d have all the candy she could eat--none. She was more like a genie than a godmother. An _evil_ genie.”

A slow, sick feeling was starting to spread through Luke’s stomach. “Do they actually have to say ‘I wish’?”

“What?”

“Do the children actually have to say ‘I wish’, or is it enough for them to say they want something?”

“It...well, it would depend,” Agatha said, slowly. “If I wished for something that would change your world, and you said you wanted the same thing, that might be enough to trigger a wish. Why?”

“Because when Marnie and I went to the dance, she said maybe being normal wasn’t so bad. And then the disguise spell she was using to make me look mortal stopped working.” He quickly outlined the situation surrounding Marnie’s prom, not even leaving out the somewhat traumatic ending. Now more than ever, he was coming to believe that it hadn’t been Marnie’s fault.

Even knowing that she was in danger, the thought that she hadn’t dropped the disguise spell on purpose made him feel better than he’d ever expected to feel again. Agatha was going to help, and he was going to get her back, and it was all going to be okay.

Really.

Agatha nodded, frowning again. “If Perryn had already gotten a proper wish out of another member of the family...”

“She could get it from Dylan, easy. He never liked being a warlock.”

“That’s probably the key, then. Someone made a wish, and now they’re all suffering the consequences.” She paused. In a softer, more serious voice, she asked, “Luke, do you love my granddaughter?”

Luke froze. “What?”

“Do you love Marnie? I need to know, because it’s going to affect how we can end this.”

Luke stared at her. Did he love Marnie? What kind of a question was that? She was a Cromwell witch and he was just another goblin--nothing special. He wasn’t _allowed_ to love Marnie. She deserved to be loved by somebody unique and wonderful and...

And he was willing to risk crossing back into the mortal world in order to save her, because he couldn’t figure out how to imagine life without her being there. She’d never love him, he knew that, but he needed to know she was _there_ in order to keep on going. Since the first day they’d met, he’d needed her; it had only gotten worse from there.

She was his best friend. She was the only girl he’d ever dreamed of kissing.

He loved her.

“Yes,” he said, meeting Agatha’s eyes. “I think maybe I do.”

Agatha smiled. “Then there may be something we can do about this mess, my boy. There may actually be something we can do.”

#

**44: Restoration.**

Perryn stepped away from her husband, saying softly, “It is done.” She folded her wings with a sound like ringing crystal, and waited.

Slowly, Kalabar opened his eyes. He had felt his strength returning as Perryn pulled him more and more tightly into her embrace, using the existing momentum of her quickly spiraling spell to feed back the power and substance he had lost. He’d been wrong to believe that she could betray him; she was still just as silly and easily deluded as she’d been when he married her in place of the lost, beloved, and reviled Gwen Cromwell.

Expression betraying neither hope nor relief, he looked down at his newly restored hands, flexing them once, as if to test them. They were solid and flawless, and he could feel the air flowing over them as they moved. There was so much resistance in the world that you stopped feeling when you were marooned outside of it, able to watch and interact but never truly touch. He reached for his magic, and it leapt to respond, an eager dog returning to its master’s side.

At last, his intolerable exile was finally over...and the renewed domination of the town that had dared to cast him aside could properly begin.

“I am...whole,” he said, looking at Perryn.

She nodded. “You are.” Then she smiled a sharp, impish smile that reminded him why he’d resolved to be rid of her as soon as it was feasible; besotted and dedicated as she was, she could still be dangerous. “You were never anything else.”

“Then this world...”

“Never cast you out. You’ve ruled here unchallenged for years.” Perryn moved to the window, pulling the curtain aside. “Look out upon your kingdom, my _lord_.”

“I believe I shall.” Kalabar walked to stand beside her, and the two of them looked out upon the fully transformed Town Square.

The pumpkin still burned with dark flames, its once-jolly features reconfigured to become cruel and dangerous. The cobblestones around it were dark and sharp-edged, and the trees were barren, their colorful leaves long since blown away by the constant winds. Half the businesses around the square were closed, and the other half clearly catered to the darker arts practiced by some of Halloweentown’s residents.

Slate-gray clouds shrouded the sky, blocking out the sun, and the nocturnal residents of the town had come out in force; ghosts and vampires, ghouls and demons walked the streets. The smaller, gentler residents of the city were nowhere to be seen. A few werewolf thugs openly harassed an elderly zombie woman near the dilapidated bus stop, and no one so much as looked twice. No one cared.

“Home,” Kalabar murmured, and began to laugh.

Far in the distance, lightning split the sky.

#

**45: All in the Family.**

“Sophie? Honey, are you all right?”

Sophie woke to find herself curled into a ball in the middle of her bedroom floor, her mother standing over her, a concerned expression on her face. An old plastic doll’s head lay a few feet away, glass eyes staring into nothing. Sophie met its gaze and shivered, turning back to her mother and saying the first thing that came to mind.

“Mommy, I don’t feel so good.”

Gwen pressed a hand against Sophie’s forehead, and winced. “Oh, baby, you’re burning up. No wonder you had to stay home today. Come on; get off that floor, and let’s get you into bed. If your fever doesn’t break by tonight, we’re going to the hospital.”

“Okay,” said Sophie dully, letting herself be guided to the bed. She couldn’t help feeling that she’d just lost some wonderful dream; she’d been flying, but not with wings--no, she’d flown on a broomstick, just like a witch, and Marnie had flown with her, and Grandma Cromwell was still alive. It had been such a wonderful dream...

But she was awake, and no matter how wonderful it may have been, it was over now. Shivering, Sophie let her mother help her into bed.

“I miss Grandma,” she said, as Gwen smoothed the blankets over her.

Gwen paused. First Marnie, and now Sophie? That was strange. Grandma Cromwell had died so long ago that she’d thought the children had forgotten, until the last few days. “I know, sweetie,” she said, automatically. “I miss her too.”

“Tell me a story?”

“What kind of story?” Gwen braced herself. Sophie had grown up on Marnie’s stories of Halloweentown, and demanded stories of witches and magic whenever she could.

Her fears were unfounded. Sophie sighed, replying, “A princess story?”

Gwen relaxed. “All right, sweetheart. Once upon a time...”

#

**46: Taking Chances.**

“Every wish has to have an escape clause--something that lets the one who made it cancel it if it isn’t what they wanted, or lets the fairy godmother stop things before they get out of hand,” Agatha explained, emptying a vial of tears into her cauldron. The smoky mess boiling inside was a deep, crystalline blue, and smelled like burning rubber. “They’re necessary escape valves for the magic that wishes generate. They’d be too big and unstoppable otherwise. Pass me the python’s skin, please, Luke.”

“What does that have to do with me being in love with Marnie?” he asked, handing her the jar. Now that he was finally admitting that he loved her, he liked the act of saying so out loud more than he would have expected. He loved Marnie. He was in love with Marnie. Marnie was the woman he loved. It sounded good from every direction. Marnie would never love him back, but that was okay. He could love her hard enough for both of them.

Agatha opened it, pulling out one six-foot-long skin and stirring it carefully into the mixture as she answered, “Marnie has forgotten Halloweentown. That means Perryn probably put the escape clause here, to keep her from finding it by mistake--and after what you told me about the school dance, that escape clause is likely to be you.”

“What?” Luke blinked. “Why?”

“Reason number one: you haven’t forgotten Marnie, or any of the rest of her family, or what you did together. I’ve forgotten you completely.” Agatha stirred the brew, tasted it, and then began adding handfuls of eggshell, pushing them under with the edge of her spoon. They didn’t bob back up. “That means it’s likely that Perryn couldn’t affect you for some reason. The most likely reason is that you’re the escape clause.”

“I...okay, I guess that makes sense,” Luke admitted. “But what does that have to do with the dance?”

“Right after Marnie made her ‘wish’, the spell stopped working and you were embarrassed in front of her entire school. Right?” Agatha poured a stream of clean white sand into the pot, and then added a handful of owl’s feathers.

Luke grimaced. “Right.”

“If _I_ were Perryn, and you were the escape clause of my wishing spell, I’d make sure you had every reason never to want to go near Marnie again. If Sophie hadn’t contacted you...”

“I might not have realized anything was wrong,” Luke said, horrified. “I would have just thought Marnie hated me.”

Agatha nodded. “Exactly so. Also, you love her. Corrupt as she is, Perryn is still a fairy godmother, and she’ll still follow the traditions of her trade.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means spells are almost always broken by true love’s first kiss,” Agatha replied, sounding satisfied. She dipped her ladle into the cauldron, hooking out a large white pearl easily the size of her fist. “Hold out your hands.”

Mutely, Luke did as he was told, and Agatha dropped the pearl into his waiting fingers. It was warm to the touch, but not hot, even though the liquid in the cauldron was boiling. It pulsed suddenly, and he nearly dropped it, startled.

“What the--”

“It’s your portal,” Agatha replied, with a sharp, almost feral grin. “Perryn’s clever, and she’s blocked me from going myself, but she can’t close all the roads out of Halloweentown--not to a _Cromwell_. We built most of them, and they remember us. That, Luke, is a Pearl of Passage.”

“What does it do?” Luke asked, looking up.

“It will take you anywhere you want to go, and bring you back again, providing you return within twenty-four hours. It should let you bring Marnie back as well, as long as you’re touching her. Just take her hand and wish for Halloweentown.”

“But how do I reach her in the first place?”

“That’s the simplest thing of all. All you need to do is close your eyes and think of where you want to be.”

“All right.” Luke closed his eyes, unconsciously squaring his shoulders. Brow furrowed, he said, “Marnie’s house.”

There was a flash of blue-white light, and he was gone. Agatha stared at the place where he’d been standing for a long moment, before she sighed and slowly shook her head. She should have expected that. There was so much she hadn’t explained to him; she hoped he was prepared, assuming his story was true, for a Marnie who had no idea who he was. If Perryn’s spell had truly erased her memories, Marnie would believe she’d never seen a goblin before, and might not even be willing to speak to him.

Still. Either Luke was lying to her, and was now safely out of her life...or he was telling the truth, and scarce though his chances of success might be, they were the only chance she had to get her family back. She didn’t want to be the last of the Cromwell witches. She didn’t want to be a lonely old woman who had buried everyone she ever loved.

She wanted her family back.

“Good luck, Luke,” she whispered, still staring at the place where he’d been standing a few moments before. “Bring them home. All of them.

“Bring them home to me.”

#

**47: Cleaning House.**

There was no feeling of movement or transition; the pearl flashed and Luke was standing in the Piper family living room, eyes still tightly closed. The sudden silence and the warmth of sunlight falling on his face told him the transition had occurred--not that it had been successful, but at least that it had happened. Cautiously, Luke opened his eyes.

He’d visited the Piper household before, most notably on the night Marnie had brought him, human and gray, home with her so he could be magically cured. It had always seemed a bit bland to him--after the chromatic disarray of Halloweentown, most things did--but still less so than the pictures he’d seen of other mortal homes. It was a mortal residence, yes. It was also home to three witches and a non-practicing warlock, and that had given it a certain amount of natural color.

There should have been candles. There should have been bright cloaks on the coat rack, and strange, curving mirrors. The signs not even Gwen’s attempts to deny her own heritage had been able to obliterate. Those things should have been there...but they weren’t. The room was as bland and unremarkable as any other mortal home, with a few framed photographs and construction paper crafts decorating the walls. All the pictures of Agatha were gone, and the family the pictures did display wasn’t quite right. Sophie was thinner, with none of her usual smug assurance. Dylan actually looked more comfortable in his own skin, but there was a tired loneliness in his eyes. And Marnie...

“Oh, Marnie,” he whispered.

The most recent picture of her looked like it was probably this world’s version of the school picture she’d given him the year before. _That_ picture hung above his bed at home--or had. He was numbly afraid that if he went back now, it would be this picture that greeted him, or no picture at all.

Instead of showing his bright, vibrant Marnie, the witch with the glossy brown hair and almost decadent smile, the photo on the wall displayed a different, dimmer girl with Marnie’s face. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail that did nothing to flatter her face; her sweater was fuzzy and unattractive; she was smiling, but her lips were closed. She looked miserable. The hands folded in her lap confirmed that impression--her nails were bitten all the way down to the quick, outlined by strips of red, raw skin.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, resting his fingers against the frame. Maybe if they hadn’t gone to the dance, she wouldn’t have wished to be normal. Maybe--

He slid the pearl into his pocket, pulling his hand away. Maybe this would have happened anyway, and he wouldn’t have been able to remember how she was supposed to be. He wouldn’t have been able to even try and save her. He’d have fit into the world Perryn and Kalabar had created, and he wouldn’t even remember that she existed. Painful as facing this reality was going to be, it was better than the alternative.

As long as he remembered her, he could save her.

He heard the sound of footsteps in the hall upstairs. Suddenly feeling terribly exposed, Luke turned and bolted for the kitchen.

His departure came just in time. Moving slowly, Gwen descended the stairs, shaking her head. Sophie was absolutely burning up; her mild illness seemed to be getting worse, and she was worried. A trip to the hospital would be traumatic for everyone, and she’d already made Marnie miss her Senior Prom--the only dance of its type that she’d ever have the chance to attend. Gwen herself had missed her prom. She’d wished better for her daughter.

She couldn’t, however, remember exactly _why_ she’d missed the prom. She paused for a moment on the stairs, mulling that thought over. Why didn’t she make it to the dance? What could possibly have stopped her?

Of course. Her mother. Her meddling, well-meaning, unfortunately deceased mother. Aggie had done _something_ , even if Gwen couldn’t remember quite what, and blocked her from attending.

Of course.

She finished descending the stairs and went into the kitchen, putting the kettle on for tea. In the pantry, Luke huddled further in the corner and waited for her to go away.

It was going to be a long day for the both of them.

#

**48: Tales Out of School.**

“Marnie, wait up!”

Marnie stopped, looking back to see Janice jogging down the school steps after her. “Sorry, Janice.”

“What is _wrong_ with you today? You’re all super-glazed. Did Paul really yell at you for missing prom?”

“No, he was pretty cool with it.” The two began to walk toward the bus stop. “He went stag and danced with Cindy Matthews.” In unison, she and Janice added, “Jerk.”

“You don’t need to worry about Cindy. She looked totally dollar store, and she doesn’t know her colors. Your dress was _much_ hotter. Too bad you didn’t get to wear it.”

“Yeah, well, Sophie.” Marnie shrugged. “Can’t schedule sick sisters.”

“Don’t I know it.” Janice stopped. “Oh, _please_ tell me that’s not why you’re in such a hurry today.”

Helplessly, Marnie said, “She’s still sick, and...”

“And she’s a little brat who won’t stay out of your room and messes with your things, remember? I don’t care if you’re going on a ‘be close to Sophie’ kick, she’s still not invited to the party this weekend.”

“I know,” Marnie said. “Totally a sibling-free zone.”

“You got it.” They knocked the knuckles of their right hands together, Super Friends-style, and Janice said, “But I should book--debate team. Call me tonight, ‘kay? We’ll work out what we’re wearing tomorrow.”

“Okay,” Marnie said, waving, and got into line for the bus.

She wasn’t sure why she was so depressed lately. It wasn’t Sophie having the flu; Janice was right about her sister being a little brat who didn’t have any respect for her big sister’s privacy. It had been fun when they were younger. She would tell Sophie exciting stories about witches and wizards, usually starring one or both of them in some major role, and they’d play them out for hours. It had been like they actually had something in common. But after Grandma Cromwell died, it got harder and harder to play make-believe. Her heart hadn’t been in it anymore.

She’d found herself having more in common with Dylan, who worked hard and didn’t complain, or depend on stupid fairy tales to get through the day. Sophie stayed a dreamer, and she guessed that was okay, for a little kid; Marnie, on the other hand, was going to be a realist if it killed her. No witches. No fairy tales. And absolutely no magic.

The line for the bus started moving slowly forward, and Marnie moved with it, sliding her backpack off as she rummaged for her bus card. She was reasonably content, most of the time; she wasn’t the most popular girl in school, but she had friends, and of course there was always Janice. They’d managed to stay close through middle school and diverging high school interests, which was something of a miracle, given the way that high school cliques tend to merge and change.

She had good grades, a nice house, a family that didn’t drive her too insane, and internet in her room. Her life was pretty good.

So why did she feel so lonely? Why did she feel like there was something missing?

Pulling her bus card out of her backpack, Marnie smiled at the driver and got onto the bus.

#

**49: Strangers Like Me.**

“Mom? I’m home!” Marnie dropped her backpack next to the door. “Hey, snot for brains.”

“Hey yourself,” Sophie replied dully. She was swaddled in blankets on the couch, with a plate of dry toast on the cushion next to her. “Come over here so I can breathe on you.”

“No way. Where’s Mom?”

“In the kitchen. And before you ask, Dylan’s upstairs.”

“Got it.” Marnie turned toward the kitchen, giving Sophie a worried look over her shoulder. Her little sister really didn’t look good, and for all her complaints about sharing space with her, Marnie really did care about the twit. “Mom? I’m home!”

Still concealed in the pantry, Luke caught and held his breath. It was Marnie. It was really and truly Marnie. No matter what her picture might look like, she still sounded the same.

She still sounded beautiful.

Gwen looked up from her address book, flashing Marnie a tired smile. “Did you see Sophie?”

“Yeah. She doesn’t look so good.”

“I called her teacher--a few of the other kids have come down with the flu in the last few days.” She snapped the book shut. “I’m taking her to the hospital. Dylan’s coming with me, for moral support, but we wanted to wait until you got back. Do you want to come with us?”

Marnie blinked. “Do you think she’s really sick?”

“It’s probably just the flu, but she’s running a fever, and if there’s anything I can do, I want them to do it.”

“Wow. Um. Would you mind if I stayed here? Homework.” Part of Marnie wanted to go with the rest of her family to the hospital. The other, more sensible part wanted to stay home and do her algebra before she slipped from her straight-C average down to a D or lower.

Gwen shook her head. “It’s all right. There’s nothing you could do to help, and I’ll call you as soon as we know anything.”

“Okay, Mom.” Marnie hugged her mother quickly, and then turned to head back to the living room, waving to Sophie as she retrieved her backpack. “Be okay, okay, Soapy?”

The sound of her old nickname was enough to make Sophie smile, a little. “I’ll do my best,” she said solemnly. “Cross my heart.”

“Good.” Marnie walked past the couch and thundered up the stairs, passing Dylan’s open bedroom door with a call of “Mom wants you,” before continuing on to her own room. She shut the door behind herself, flopping on the bed and starting to dig through her backpack.

Downstairs, she heard rattling and thumping noises as Gwen wrangled Dylan and pried Sophie off the couch in order to load her into the car. Marnie fully understood why she’d been given the choice to stay behind; two Piper kids in a car was chaotic, even when one of them was sick. Three would be just plain unmanageable.

Comfortably oblivious, Marnie read on.

In the pantry, Luke listened as Gwen left the kitchen and gathered the two younger children into the car, locking the door behind them. He waited until he’d heard the car engine start, followed by the sound of a vehicle leaving the driveway, before he uncurled and cautiously cracked open the pantry door.

The kitchen was empty. Late afternoon sunlight filtered through the curtains, reflecting off the specks of dust floating in the air. He stepped further out of the pantry, listening, but there was no sound from above. Could Marnie have gone with them?

No. Both Dylan and Sophie had made plenty of complaints during the process of loading the car; if Marnie had left the house, he’d have heard her as well. She was still there, and they were alone.

Emboldened by his certainty, Luke moved toward the living room.

#

**50: Screams in the Night.**

Marnie’s stomach gave an audible growl. She blinked, looking down at herself, and said, “Okay, okay. Point taken. I’ll go get something to eat.” She slid off the bed, stocking feet making no sound on the carpeted floor, and padded out into the hall.

Luke heard Marnie’s door opening, and froze. She was coming. She was going to come down the stairs...when he saw her hand on the banister above he realized how exposed he was, and bolted for the shadows behind the coat rack. Any cover was better than none, at least for a few moments. At least while he figured out what to do.

She walked down the stairs without seeing him, heading straight for the kitchen. Wide-eyed, Luke watched her go. All the cosmetic differences he’d noticed in her picture were there, but she still moved like his Marnie--save for a very slight, somewhat defeated slump to her shoulders, like the world had already had the time to teach her that dreams don’t come true. She lacked the confidence that he expected her to have, and that hurt.

Silently, he resolved to hit Perryn a lot if he ever actually managed to meet the woman.

Marnie emerged from the kitchen several minutes later, balancing a banana, a cheese sandwich and a glass of milk. Luke watched until he was reasonably sure she wasn’t going to jump if he surprised her, and cleared his throat.

She stopped dead in her tracks, eyes going wide as she looked around the living room. “Hello? Dylan, is that you? If that’s you, it’s _not_ funny.”

“It’s not Dylan,” Luke said, and swallowed, hard.

Marnie’s eyes narrowed. “Who are you?”

“You have to promise you won’t freak.”

“What?” She squinted, trying to see into the shadows. Now that she was following the sound of his voice, she could see the outline of a tall teenage boy standing behind the coat rack, his face turned forcibly away.

“You have to promise you won’t freak when I come out in the open,” he said, insistently.

“Is this some kind of a joke? Come where I can see you.”

“Only if you promise.”

Marnie sighed. “All right. I promise.”

“Good. Now don’t be afraid, okay?” Luke stepped out of the shadows and fully into view, hands held palms-up in front of him to show that he was unarmed. “I’m a friend. I’m here to help.”

Marnie stared at him. Luke looked back, nervously. She kept staring. Luke offered what he hoped was an encouraging smile.

“Hi?” he said, finally.

Marnie screamed and bolted for the stairs.

#

**51: Parlay.**

Luke followed Marnie up the stairs, coming to a dead halt when she slammed the door in his face. Belatedly, he realized that chasing her when she’d never seen a goblin before--not in this lifetime, anyway--had probably been a bad idea. “Marnie--”

“Did someone at school put you up to this?” she shouted through the door. “Is this supposed to be _funny_?”

“No! It’s supposed to be you listening to me! Marnie, come on, please. You have to open the door!”

“I’m calling the police!”

“What are you going to tell them? That a goblin chased you up the stairs and now you want him removed?”

Marnie went quiet, and for a moment, Luke was afraid that he’d gone too far. His heart had sunk when she turned and ran; seeing her, he’d almost let himself believe that she would remember, and everything would be all right. But she didn’t remember him. She didn’t remember _anything_.

His Marnie had never run away from a creature, not even when she was new to Halloweentown and unaware of her own nature. She’d grinned at the ghosts and hopped into the skeleton-driven cabs without hesitating. That was part of what had made him love her so much: she cared without regard for species. She wasn’t afraid of things that were different. She liked everyone...and now she was running away from the sight of his face.

How could he have ever believed that she dropped the disguise spell at the dance to be cruel? Being laughed at hadn’t hurt half this much.

“Is that what you are?” she asked, finally. “A goblin?”

Luke’s heart leaped. “Yeah, I am,” he said. “From Halloweentown.”

“From _where_?” She sounded incredulous--and interested.

“Look. Open the door and let me in. We’ll talk. If this is a prank, you won’t lose anything but talking to me...and if I’m telling the truth, this is really, really important.”

There was no reply. Luke held his breath--and then slowly, the door inched open. Marnie was standing on the other side, watching him warily; he couldn’t think of any moment in his life when she’d been more beautiful.

“All right,” she said. “Talk.”

#

**52: Darkness Falls.**

Perryn shoved the bound fairy godmother hard between the wings. The tiny woman dropped to her knees, still staring defiantly up at Kalabar. “I’ve done nothing wrong,” she said.

“Nothing save for granting the so-called ‘innocent wishes’ of children,” Kalabar sneered. “Your union was disbanded, your brand of magic outlawed. Why do you persist?”

“Because the children need us.” She glanced back at Perryn, finely wrought features drawing into a moue of disgust. “I’m not surprised that you don’t understand that, given the company you keep.”

“How _dare_ you?” Perryn demanded, voice going shrill. “You can’t talk to me that way!”

“I can, and I will,” the fairy godmother snapped. “You can put me in iron shackles and call yourself the queen of the world, Perryn, but nothing you or your husband can do to me will change the fact that you’re a terrible fairy godmother. You never understood the calling.”

“Understand this,” Kalabar said. Her attention snapped back to him, and he smiled. “You will be taken to the jailhouse and kept separated from your magic wand until you agree to wish yourself powerless, exiled, and mortal.”

She stared at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“Until that time, you will wear iron and work no magic. If it takes you more than a month, we’ll consider removing your wings. One. By. One.” He made a plucking gesture with his hand. The fairy godmother stared at him, mouth open, speechless. “Guards, take her away.”

Three of his hired ogres stepped out of the shadows and carried her back toward the dungeons. She went without fighting, staring after Perryn and Kalabar the whole way.

When the door slammed behind them, Perryn smiled brightly, and all but flung herself into Kalabar’s lap. “Oh, you were _brilliant_!” she exclaimed. “I never dreamed this would be so wonderful.”

“All Halloweentown is ours, my love,” he said, smoothing her green hair back with one hand, and thinking of how much more gaudy and garish it was than Gwen Cromwell’s simple and unpretentious brown. How vilely colorful these fairy creatures were. How impossibly brash. “We can do with it as we see fit.”

“Forever?”

“Forever.” He pressed his mouth down on hers and she kissed him hungrily back, still unaware that behind his closed eyes, he was dreaming of kissing another.

#

**53: I Know You.**

“You’re not a goblin. It’s a mask.”

“It’s not a mask,” Luke said. “Trust me, I’d know if it were.” He felt profoundly uncomfortable sitting on her bed, largely because while he’d been in Marnie’s room before, this wasn’t it. Her personal space had been more deeply affected by the changes than the rest of the house. He didn’t know the girl that lived here, with her untidy closet and her desk piled high with teen magazines and math books.

He only knew the witch she used to be.

“It has to be a mask. And your hair...”

“Is really this color, and really this texture, I swear. And yes, it’s like this naturally. Would anyone _dye_ their hair this sort of orange? Look, just...just touch it, okay? Feel my skin and tell me if it’s a mask.” He didn’t want to make the offer: stranger or not, she looked like Marnie, and the last thing he wanted was to start blushing because she was touching him. Still, if it might convince her of his sincerity, it was worth a try.

Biting her lip, Marnie leaned forward from the desk chair and quickly, hesitantly touched his cheek. Her eyes widened and she touched him again, more lingeringly as she felt the texture and pulse of his skin. He swallowed, and she jumped when the muscles in his cheek did.

“It’s not a mask,” she whispered, pulling her hand away and staring at him.

“I’ve been trying to tell you that.”

“But your _face_...”

“Yeah, well.” Luke’s grimace was brief and bitter. “I was born this way, okay? For me, this is normal.”

“What _are_ you?” Marnie asked, half-awestruck. A small corner of her mind was insisting that she should be terrified and screaming again by now, but curiosity and an almost bittersweet sense of familiarity mostly overwhelmed it. She knew that face, somehow. It wasn’t a human face...and now that she was paying attention, something was telling her that she knew it anyway.

“I told you: I’m a goblin.”

“But...where did you come from? Why are you _here_?” She paused. “You’re not going to eat me, are you?”

“What? No!” Luke stared at her, aghast. “Jeez, Marnie, goblins don’t eat people. You should know that.”

“How do you know my name?” she demanded. “You keep using my name. How do you know who I am?”

Luke took a deep breath. “I’m from another world. A world called Halloweentown.”

“You’re what?” Marnie shook her head slowly, eyes wide. “No. I can deal with you being a goblin, but other worlds--especially worlds that my grandmother invented in some stupid bedtime story...”

“I don’t know about worlds: I just know one. Halloweentown. My home...and yours.”

Marnie laughed, nervously. “What are you talking about? You’re not here to kidnap me and make me your queen, are you? Because I’m not into that sort of thing, and you’re no Jareth.”

“Marnie, you’re the heir to the line of Cromwell witches. An evil fairy godmother twisted your words and used what you said at prom, when you said that being normal wasn’t so bad, to turn you into a normal person--but you’re not. None of you are. You’re a Cromwell. You’re supposed to be part of my world, not just this one.”

Marnie frowned, expression doubtful. “Prom...I missed prom. Sophie was sick.”

“No, you didn’t. You went to prom with me.” Luke forced himself to meet her eyes. “I’m not lying to you, Marnie. Your memories have been changed, your world has been changed, and this isn’t the way things are supposed to be.”

She looked at him for a long moment, noting how nervous he seemed...and how sincere. If it hadn’t been for the sheer strangeness of what he was saying, she’d have believed him without question. And he really _was_ a goblin. What better place for a goblin to come from than a world called Halloweentown?

What if he was telling the truth?

“You were my date to prom?” she asked, incredulously.

Luke turned a deeper shade of green as he blushed, and said, “We’re friends, Marnie. You’ve saved me more than once, you just don’t remember. Please, trust me. Give me the chance to save you for a change.”

Marnie frowned. Luke held his breath.

Finally, she shrugged, saying, “All right. What do I need to do?”

Luke relaxed, smiling brightly as he pulled the Pearl of Passage out of his pocket. “Put your hand over this.”

“It’s beautiful,” Marnie said, eyes wide. She reached out and put her hand down on top of his, cupping the pearl. “Now what?”

“Close your eyes.” She did, and Luke did the same, saying, “Halloweentown.”

There was a bright flash of light, and they were gone.

#

**54: Home Again.**

They appeared, still seated, beneath the awning of the old Halloweentown theatre. The wind howled around them, ruffling their hair, and Luke cautiously opened his eyes, looking around.

The theatre behind them should have been brightly lit, the marquee advertising the latest monster movie marathon, but instead, it was closed and boarded over, looking as though it hadn’t been used in years. Garbage and dead leaves had gathered in the far corners of the entryway, and cobwebs clogged the dusty windows. “This isn’t right,” he said, staring.

“Wow,” said Marnie, open-mouthed. “You weren’t _kidding_.” She was looking at the dark glowering pumpkin across the dirty, blasted square. “It looks so...so mean.”

“It’s not supposed to,” Luke said, scrambling to his feet. The pearl was gone; apparently, Agatha wasn’t kidding when she said it was only good for two uses. “As the pumpkin goes, so goes Halloweentown.”

“That sounds like something out of a kid’s story,” Marnie said, dubiously.

“We think the mortal world sounds like a kid’s story. So we’re even. Come on, get up.” He offered her his hand. “We need to get out of here before we’re spotted.”

“Spotted?” she asked, levering herself to her feet. She squeezed his fingers in the process, and he looked away before she saw him blush again. “By who?”

“Remember that evil fairy godmother I told you about?”

“Yeah, more kid’s stuff.”

“You’d better stop saying that. If this is a story, you’re in it now.” He pulled his hand away, looking back to her. “She didn’t just change you: she took you out of the world and that meant that you and your family weren’t here to save our world from the forces of evil. Without you, Kalabar wouldn’t have been stopped. So now _he’s_ in charge here, and the darkness has taken over.”

“Wait a second, whoa.” Marnie put her hands up, saying, “I hope you didn’t bring me here to fight any ‘forces of evil’. I’m a strictly non-evil-fighting girl.”

Disgusted, Luke shook his head. “You really have no idea who you are anymore, do you? The Marnie I know would never say something like that.”

“Well apparently, the Marnie _you_ know doesn’t look at a place that could come straight out of a storybook and think ‘wow, I’m asleep,’” she snapped.

“You’re not asleep. This is real.”

Marnie eyed him for a moment, and then turned slowly, starting to really look around. Her eyes went wide as she spotted her first denizens of Halloweentown--one of the werewolf street gangs, crossing on the other side of the square. Luke eyed them warily, but decided they weren’t likely to be noticed while standing under the awning. She could have a few minutes.

“This _has_ to be a dream,” Marnie said, watching the werewolves vanish. She was trying to look in all directions at once now. It was like an unconscious parody of her first visit to Halloweentown, back when she had first discovered her heritage. Luke remembered watching her across the square, and wondering who she was, where she’d come from...whether she’d be staying.

Her first visit had changed a lot of lives, until Perryn undid everything she’d done. Now it was time to change them back.

“Come on,” Luke said, grabbing her hand and trying to lead her toward the alley. “We need to get out of here before we get caught.”

“There’s a man over there that’s see-through. Like, I can see right through.”

“He’s a ghost. Come _on_.” Luke pulled harder. She stumbled, finally starting to follow him.

“Where are we going?” she asked, sounding wounded. “If this isn’t a dream, I want to look around more.”

“If we don’t get out of here, we’re going to be in trouble,” he said, leading her into the alley and toward the fence at the end. If they could just get off the beaten roads, they’d be a lot less likely to wind up running into any of Kalabar’s minions.

“But where are we _going_?”

“To your grandmother. She’ll know what to do, and how to get your memory back. She always knows what to do.”

“ _What_?!” Marnie shrieked, yanking her hand out of his as she came to a sudden halt.

Luke stumbled, and turned to face her. “What’s wrong _now_?”

“Is this some sort of sick joke? My grandmother is _dead_!”

“Your grandmother is perfectly fine, and not even a little dead, although, you know, around here, death isn’t always the end. She’s the one that sent me to get you.” Luke pinched the bridge of his nose. “Look, when Perryn--”

“Perryn?”

“The evil fairy godmother. When she messed with everyone’s memories, she changed your grandmother’s memory, too. She thought you were dead until I convinced her otherwise, and then she sent me to get you. Or maybe she just sent me away because she thought I was nuts, but either way, I got you. Look. You’ve already trusted me this far. Can’t you just believe me until I can prove it to you?”

Marnie eyed him. “I don’t have any other way to get home, do I?”

“No, probably not.”

“All right. But I’m not happy about this.”

“That’s fine. Neither am I.” He grabbed her hand again and took off for the end of the alley, inwardly fuming. She was just as infuriating as the real Marnie, with none of her redeeming features--no jokes, no bravery, and near as he could tell, no brain. “I like you better when you’re a witch,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.”

They turned at the end of the alley, creeping behind the shops until they found an opening into Lost Lover’s Lane. The banks were mossy and overgrown, devoid of their usual ghostly cars. Luke felt a sharp pang. This was his world without the Cromwells. He glanced back to Marnie, and saw that she still just looked annoyed. Halloweentown had lost so much more than just her family, and she didn’t even know.

Normally, he would have detoured through Old Missus Slothwell’s yard to the creek, but--hauling Marnie, and with no idea what changes Perryn’s spell might have made in the troll that was the creek’s guardian--he opted to go around instead, hauling Marnie down to the end of Lost Lover’s Lane and out into the forest on the other side.

“How much further?” she demanded.

“Not far now. Just keep moving.”

Behind them, the dark shape of Kalabar’s house loomed above the forest. The windows were open...and the lights were all on.

#

**55: Reunion.**

“Are we there yet?” Marnie demanded. Her socks were soaked through, and her feet hurt from tromping through the Halloweentown forest. This was seeming like a worse and worse idea. Sure, all the stories said that when a mysterious goblin man showed up in your house and promised you a great adventure you should take him up it, but those were just stories. This was real life.

And she was pretty sure by this point that she wasn’t dreaming. Dreams could be scary and unpleasant, yes, but they didn’t usually involve sharp rocks poking her in the feet, or strange bugs getting tangled in her hair. She’d tried surreptitiously pinching herself several times, and it hurt every time. She was awake. This was really happening.

“Almost,” Luke said, poking his head out through the underbrush. There was Agatha’s house ahead of them, the lights on in the window. It was starting to look like rain, again, and he wanted to get them inside before Marnie had something else to complain about. “The coast is clear. Come on.”

“No one really says ‘the coast is clear’. Who taught you to _talk_ like that?” Marnie asked, as he hauled her across the yard and up onto the porch.

“You did,” he said, and knocked.

The door swung open, and Agatha Cromwell--still looking incredibly old to Luke’s eyes, but with her hair at least combed and groomed, and dressed in nicer robes than she’d been wearing before--beckoned them inside. “Come in, my dears, come in. I’m so sorry, Luke, where did you wind up?”

“Town Square,” he said, brushing past her. “It’s a mess. The pumpkin is...it looks _mean_.”

“That’s to be expected, with Kalabar in charge again.” She closed the door, looking down for just a moment, and then finally turned to face the granddaughter who her memories still insisted had died years before. “Marnie?” she asked, quietly.

“Grandma Cromwell?” Marnie whispered, eyes going wide. “But...you’re supposed to be _dead_.”

“No, my dear. Not dead.” Agatha’s smile was kind, although her eyes were sad. That sorrow might never go away, not in this terrible world of wishing. “I’m so sorry this has been done to you, Marnie--to all of us. I never expected Perryn would be able to achieve something this cruel. But I suppose we all have to learn sometime.”

“Grandma...” Marnie said, barely hearing her words, and ran forward to embrace her. Agatha wrapped her arms around the young woman and closed her eyes, trying not to shake.

“You look so much like your mother,” she said softly, resting her chin against Marnie’s shoulder. “So, so much like your mother. Oh, Marnie, how could I have spent so long believing that I’d lost you?”

“Grandma...” Marnie stiffened then, pulling away, just enough to stare at Agatha. “You’re really real. The goblin wasn’t lying.”

“My name is Luke,” he said, stiffly.

“Yes, dear, Luke was telling the truth. Perryn has changed your memories, and mine, and everyone else’s as well. This is a world where we lost each other, and Halloweentown fell to darkness because of that.”

“But...how can one family make so much of a difference?”

“Because we are the Cromwell witches, Marnie, keepers of a magical legacy that has existed since before our world began. We protect Halloweentown.”

“We?” Marnie asked.

“Yes, dear. You too.”

#

**56: He Knows.**

“Master!” The teenage werewolf raced into the room, tennis shoes flapping where his outsized feet and claws had split them. He dimly thought it shouldn’t be that way-- he was a creature, not a monster, and his clothes should fit for more than an hour at a time--but the thought was only half-formed, and died as quickly as it had come. He was a monster. And Kalabar was his commander.

The newly restored Mayor turned away from his window, asking, “What is it, cur?”

The werewolf cringed, saying, “You said you should be told if the goblin boy appeared, Master.”

“Luke.” Kalabar smiled. His traitorous lieutenant had finally come slinking back. Perryn’s spell hadn’t caught the goblin as quickly as the others, but he still had confidence that it would, given time. His wife was nothing if not effective. “Where is he?”

“The Cromwell house, Master. And he’s not alone.”

That snapped Kalabar out of his pleasant contemplation of what he would do to the traitor, and he stiffened, eyes blazing. “He’s _where_?”

“The Cromwell house. He was seen going through the woods, hauling a,” the werewolf made a disgusted face, “mortal girl.”

“A mortal girl,” Kalabar said, slowly. “His age, brown hair, a petulant expression on her face?”

“Yes, Master. Exactly. Do you know her?”

“Not anymore,” Kalabar said. Then he waved his hand, dismissively, trying to look unconcerned as he said, “It doesn’t matter. _She_ doesn’t matter. Kill them, both of them--kill the old Cromwell woman, too. Halloweentown has tolerated that wretched artifact of a by-gone era for too long. It’s time for us to sweep the past away and move forward into our glorious tomorrow.” The werewolf stared at him, apparently not understanding. Kalabar scowled. “That means ‘go,’ you imbecile.”

Blanching, the thug turned and ran out of the room, presumably to assemble the others and made the demanded raid on the Cromwell household. As soon as he was gone, Kalabar allowed all signs of anything but fury to fade from his face and turned, stalking toward the door as he bellowed, “Perryn!” 

The eldest Cromwell brat was back? How was that possible? And how was his former flunky involved with the little nuisance?

It didn’t matter. He’d have them both killed, and everything would continue to go exactly as he wanted it to be. No matter what it took, he wouldn’t lose this time.

He refused.

#

**57: Legacy and Leaving.**

“Here, dear; try these on.” Agatha handed Marnie a red and gold robe and a pair of matching shoes, adding, “They were your mother’s when she was your age. They should fit you now.”

“I just can’t get over the idea that _Mom_ was one of these Cromwell witches,” Marnie said, pulling off her wet socks, putting down the shoes and stepping into them. “I mean, why would she have left if she was so powerful?”

“Love makes us do foolish things,” Agatha said. “Like leaving our worlds behind in order to be with the people we care about.” She glanced at the bedroom door, toward the living room where Luke waited.

Marnie didn’t seem to notice. She pulled the robe on over her clothes, asking, “So Dad wasn’t a witch?”

“It’s ‘warlock’ for men, and no, dear, he wasn’t; he was mortal, and your mother loved him from the moment they met. It was fate, I suppose. True love is sometimes the best trick, and the best treat, that any Halloween can have.” Agatha leaned over, straightening the collar of Marnie’s robe, before stepping back to look at her. “You look so much like your mother at your age, Marnie. How could I have ever believed that I’d lost you?”

“Magic is pretty powerful, isn’t it, Grandma?” Marnie asked, frowning. She hadn’t signed up for powerful witches and running for her life through dark, scary forests. She’d actually believed that she was dreaming--and despite the welcome return of her beloved grandmother, this situation seemed more and more like a nightmare.

“Magic can do anything we ask it to, and more, if we know what to ask for,” Agatha said, mistaking Marnie’s growing fear for interest. “That’s what it means to be a witch. We know how to make magic work for us, and for all of Halloweentown.”

“Oh,” said Marnie, subdued.

Agatha put her hand on Marnie’s shoulder, squeezing lightly. “This is a lot for both of us to take in, my dear. There’s so much I want to ask you, so much I want to know about you and your family...but for now, we’d best get back to Luke before he worries, don’t you think?”

“I suppose,” said Marnie. She wasn’t at all sure she wanted to see the goblin boy again. Sure, there was the nagging feeling that she really _did_ know him from somewhere, but he’d been so _rude_ when he dragged her out of her own world. “I’m not sure I trust him, Grandma.”

“Marnie! How can you say such a thing?”

“Well, I don’t even really know what he is. I mean, he’s so funny-looking...”

“Did your mother raise you to be a racist, out there in the mortal world?” Agatha shook her head. “I’m ashamed of you, Marnie. Luke is a good, kind boy, and he’s the one that’s brought us back together again. How can you distrust him just because of his looks? Human or goblin, he has a good heart.”

Marnie looked suitably chastened, saying, “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

“Yes, I suppose you should be. Come on.”

In the hall, Luke took his ear away from the door and slunk back to the couch, ears burning. _She doesn’t trust me because I’m ugly,_ he thought. _I went to the mortal world to find her, and now she doesn’t trust me._ He’d always known she wouldn’t love him. Hearing that she couldn’t trust him...

“This was stupid,” he muttered. They’d never break the spell. Maybe he could reunite Marnie with her grandmother, and that was great, sure, but she’d never really be the girl he knew--or, if he was being honest, the girl he loved. His Marnie was gone, replaced by a stranger who was more like Dylan than anything else. And he couldn’t do anything to get the real Marnie back back.

“What was stupid, Luke, dear?” Agatha asked, stepping back into the living room.

“Nothing, Mrs. Cromwell,” he said, looking up. “I just--” He stopped, staring at Marnie.

She’d let her hair down, wearing it loose around her shoulders, just like the real Marnie always did. Dressed in borrowed robe and slippers, she only needed her broom to look exactly like the girl he dreamed about at night. For a moment, he was able to pretend the events since prom had just been some sort of terrible, ironic dream; that it was all over now.

Then she opened her mouth. “Grandma loaned me this robe until we could find me some real warm clothes and get me back to my own world. I wasn’t dressed for October.”

“Now Marnie,” Agatha chided, smiling, “those _are_ real clothes, for Halloweentown. Do either of you children want anything to eat? I have some pumpkin pie, and cookies left over from the coven meeting...”

“That’s all right, Mrs. Cromwell,” Luke said. “I’m not hungry.”

“Well, I am,” Marnie said. “I never got my snack. Please, Grandma?”

“Coming right up!” Agatha replied, and turned in a swirl of robes to head for the kitchen.

Shaking her head, Marnie walked over and sat in a chair near the couch. Luke watched her warily. “This is so hard for me to get used to,” she said.

“It’s not too easy from this side, either,” he said. “It’s just going to take some time.”

“I’m not who you expect me to be, am I?”

Luke gaped at her for a moment before he remembered to shut his mouth. He wasn’t sure what he’d expected her to say, but this definitely wasn’t it. “Uh...no, not quite. You’re kind of different than the Marnie I remember.”

“Because your Marnie believes in magic and fairy godmothers and goblins,” she said, flatly.

Uh-oh. “Yes. Don’t you?”

“I don’t have much of a choice when they’re sitting right in front of me, do I?” Marnie shook her head. “When I go home...”

“Go home?”

“To my world? Where I belong?” She shrugged. “Sophie would probably love it here, but ghosts and goblins and big dark scary forests really aren’t my thing.”

“Right.” Luke sagged back in the couch, expression sullen. “Where you belong.”

Maybe she wasn’t really his Marnie, but she was the closest thing he was going to get, and now she was planning to leave him again. The real Marnie fell in love with Halloweentown the second she saw it. This one didn’t want anything to do with it. She just wanted to go.

He shoved himself abruptly to his feet, stalking to the door. Marnie blinked, eyes wide as she watched him walk away.

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“Out,” he said, and wrenched the door open, slamming it behind himself.

Agatha emerged from the kitchen at the sound of the slamming door, a tray of pastries and cider in her hands. She looked from her bemused granddaughter to the closed door and back again, frowning slowly. Marnie watched her, worried about what she was doing to say.

Finally, Agatha just sighed. “Cider?”

#

**58: Into the Woods.**

Night had fallen dark and cool, and the leaves on the trees were heavy with water from the recent rains. Luke looked up and scowled. He couldn’t see the stars; that meant it was going to rain again, and probably soon. It had been raining almost constantly since things started going wrong, and while that suited his mood to a certain degree, it was starting to get on his nerves.

“Ungrateful, awful, nasty little _witch_ ,” he muttered, shoving his hands into the pockets of his coat as he kicked his way through the wet and muddy leaves caking the ground. How dare she just dismiss what he and Agatha had told her as some unimportant children’s story, just because she didn’t remember who she really was? How could she turn her back after seeing Halloweentown? Even dark and twisted by Kalabar’s magic, it was still where she belonged. A part of her had to know that, no matter how deeply it was buried.

He stopped, shoulders sagging as his anger was replaced with a sudden, utter hopelessness. “There’s no point,” he said, looking up at the cloud-covered sky, “is there? I’m not going to get her back. I should just let her go home. She can forget all this, and be happy.”

Unbidden, thoughts of how miserable and afraid Sophie had sounded rose in his mind, but he forced them resolutely down again. She didn’t remember either, by this point. How could she miss what she didn’t even remember having in the first place? How could any of them miss it?

As he stalked into the forest, feet squelching in the loam, one last thought returned to haunt him: _I should have kissed her when I had the chance._

Inside, Agatha sighed, letting the curtains fall back into place. “What did you _say_ to the poor boy, Marnie? He was right about what had been done to you, you know, and the fact that he remembered you at all tells me that you must have been quite close.” _Quite close indeed,_ she added to herself, remembering Luke’s admissions of love.

“Just that I was planning to go home again, Grandma.” Marnie shrugged. “I didn’t know it would upset him so much.”

Agatha’s face fell. “You don’t want to stay here in Halloweentown? But Marnie, this is your heritage...”

“My father was human. That’s my heritage, too. Maybe when I was Sophie’s age this would’ve seemed like a great adventure, but now it just seems, I don’t know, silly.” Marnie shrugged.

“Silly?”

“Witches and goblins and people having their memories changed by evil fairy godmothers...silly. I know it’s real. My feet wouldn’t hurt like this in a dream. But at the same time...it’s not the kind of real that’s right for me.” Marnie bit her lip. “I’m sorry, Grandma.”

“No...no, it’s all right, Marnie, it’s all right.” Agatha moved slowly to a seat, sinking down into it as she said, “I should have expected it, really. You’re too old to adjust to the idea of living here in Halloweentown, and your powers would never really amount to anything if we started your training this late. As you say, if you were younger...but I suppose what we should really do now is send you home again.”

“Thanks, Grandma. For understanding.” Marnie smiled, somewhat pained. Finding her lost grandmother again had been wonderful. But it wasn’t worth giving up an entire world for.

“Of course, you’ll have to find Luke, first.”

Marnie paused. “Why?”

“Because, dear, the only way I have of getting you back to the mortal world before next Halloween is a Pearl of Passage. And those must be used twice.”

“I can’t wait for Halloween! I have to graduate from high school!”

“Exactly. That means you need to get Luke to take you home. Then he can use the same pearl to come back alone. Otherwise the pearl would just return you to Halloweentown when its time was up.”

“Oh, _no_!” Marnie wailed, jumping to her feet and racing for the door. “I’m going to go catch him before he goes too far!”

“You do that, dear,” Agatha said, and watched as her granddaughter raced out into the night.

Marnie wanted to go home, did she? Well, the Marnie Luke had described to her would want to stay--and if Luke could manage to break Perryn’s spell, that was the Marnie they’d be dealing with. The odds weren’t as good as they could have been, but they were good enough, and Agatha had always been willing to gamble when she had to.

She rose decorously, heading for the hallway, and her broom. She was going to want to watch this.

Outside, Marnie crashed through the underbrush, frightening a flock of bats out of one of the nearby trees. She screamed a little as one of them got snarled in her hair, then screamed again as someone grabbed her shoulders from behind.

“Be quiet!” Luke snapped. “You’re scaring the bats!” His hands were deft as they moved through her hair, freeing and releasing the bat in a matter of moments.

She ducked out from under his hands and turned to face him, glaring. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

“Who was sneaking? You were making so much noise that I could’ve been a parade and you wouldn’t have known.”

“I...oh. You’re such a _boy_.”

“I guess that’s a step up from being a goblin,” he replied sourly. “What are you doing out here?”

“Grandma says I need you to get home.”

“And?”

Marnie bit her lip, bravado fading. “And I want to go home. Please?”

“What’s in it for me?” Luke demanded. “You aren’t willing to help us. You don’t even want to know if I’m right about who you really are. Why should I help you if you aren’t my friend?”

“Because it’s the right thing to do?” She paused, then added, “And because I’ll...I’ll listen and help, if you just take me home first, just for a little while, to prove you can. So my mother doesn’t worry.”

Luke eyed her, and then sighed. “I don’t have much of a choice, do I? Come on. Let’s get back to the house before it rains.”

“Okay.”

They tromped through the forest together, and were almost out of the trees when Agatha swooped by, low on her broom, shouting, “Run, children, run! He’s found us! Run!”

The sound of howling wolves rent the night.

The chase was on.

#

**59: Halfway Through the Woods.**

Luke grabbed Marnie’s hand and ran, half-dragging her behind him as they hurtled toward the edge of the wood. “We’ll be safe if we can reach the house!” he shouted back at her. “They won’t be able to get past Agatha’s wards unless she invites them in!”

“Luke, those are _wolves_! We’re being chased by _wolves_!”

“No, we’re not!”

“If they’re not wolves, what _are_ they?”

“Werewolves!”

They were moving so fast now that Luke’s sneakers could barely find purchase on the wet, muddy ground. They broke through the edge of the trees, with the sound of howling wolves drawing closer and closer behind them. Agatha had landed her broom on the porch and was beckoning them closer, calling, “Come, children, hurry! Hurry!”

“Marnie, come on!”

“I’m trying!” This was more than Marnie wanted to handle--or could, really. Earlier that day she’d been just another normal girl living in a perfectly normal world, with no cares more pressing than whether or not she could make it to graduation and get into her first choice college. Now she was being hauled through the night by a goblin, being chased by werewolves, while her grandmother the witch--her _dead_ grandmother--promised them sanctuary. It was just too much.

Her concentration broke as her feet hit a rock, and she pitched forward, hand ripping out of Luke’s as she landed face-first on the murky ground. Luke ran a few more steps before he realized that he’d lost her; then he whirled, shouting, “Marnie!” and ran back to her side, trying to help her get back to her feet. “Marnie, come on, you have to get up...”

“I’m trying,” she repeated weakly, grasping his arms and levering herself up to her knees. “Can you--Luke?” He wasn’t looking at her anymore, either with disgust or concern. He was looking _past_ her...back into the forest. “What do you see?”

“Get down, Marnie,” he said, letting go of her arms and stepping forward, putting himself between her and the woods. She fell back onto her hands and looked past him, dreading what she might see.

Three werewolves had stepped out of the wood. They were clad in the tattered remains of their human clothing; two of them wore jeans, and the third was dressed in what had obviously once been a bright, floral-patterned sundress. Their heads were completely bestial, and saliva ran from their jaws in vast, steaming strings.

Marnie screamed.

“Just stay down!” Luke shouted back at her, as he began stooping and grabbing rocks from the ground, pegging them at the werewolves. “Get out of here! Now! Kalabar is twisting your minds! Can’t you see that?”

“Werewolves...” Marnie whispered, numbly. It was the last straw. Alternate dimensions filled with cute, cuddly versions of Halloween monsters, sure--but huge slavering monsters that looked at her the way Dylan looked at a cheeseburger? No. Scrambling to her feet, she ran back toward her grandmother’s house, sobbing.

Luke continued to fling rocks at the werewolves, screaming incoherent insults at them. They were advancing slowly, looking more amused than threatened--but he’d heard Marnie getting up, and he knew that she was getting away. Once she was with Agatha, she’d be safe.

Whether this was his Marnie or not, he couldn’t turn and run when she was in danger.

He had flung his last rock and was getting ready to move onto mud when strong hands grabbed the back of his jacket, and he was lifted off the ground. He started to thrash wildly, and stopped as Agatha’s familiar voice scolded, “Why, Luke! Cut that out!”

“Yes, ma’am!” he said gladly, subsiding. “Did you get Marnie into the house?”

“What?”

Luke went numb. “Marnie. Isn’t she with you?” Even the fact that he was now dangling from a broomstick an easy ten feet above the ground wasn’t enough to distract him from the fact that Agatha was here, and Marnie wasn’t.

“I lost sight of you before you left the trees! I thought you’d hidden her somewhere!”

“No--she was running toward the house!”

“Oh, my stars...hang on!” Agatha’s hands tightened on the back of Luke’s jacket as she turned the broom in a wide arc, plummeting back toward the ground. He shrieked and scrambled to get his hands around the broomstick above his head, hanging on for dear life.

The house came into view ahead--the house, and Marnie, running up the steps toward Agatha, who stood with her arms outstretched. “Marnie, darling...”

“When I say drop,” hissed the real Agatha, “you let go.”

Luke whimpered.

“Grandma!” Marnie wailed.

“ _Drop_!” shouted Agatha.

Luke let go.

#

**60: Desperate Measures.**

The fall wasn’t as bad as he’d been expecting. Agatha was in the low point of her flight when she ordered him to release the broom, and Luke plummeted less than five feet, landing with a resounding thump between Marnie and her apparent grandmother. The sudden rain of goblin was enough to cause Marnie to stop moving forward and stare at him, asking, astounded, “ _Luke_?”

“Ow,” said Luke, standing. He shook his head to clear it, then turned to put himself firmly between Marnie and the woman who looked like Agatha, saying, “I don’t know what you are, but you’d better get out of here! Right now!”

“Oh? Or what?” asked the woman, folding her arms and smiling. “Really, Luke. Standing between a poor old woman and her beloved granddaughter...”

“I know who you are,” said Agatha, as she touched down behind Marnie and stepped off of her broom. “You should be ashamed of yourself.”

Marnie turned, mouth hanging slightly open. “Grandma?”

“Missus Cromwell, what’s going on?” asked Luke.

“Better to ask your friend there,” Agatha said. “Isn’t that right, Perryn?”

Her doppelganger stared at her for a moment, and then started to laugh, slowly becoming enshrouded by a cloud of green mist. When it cleared away she was revealed as something altogether new, from the tips of her wings to the curls of her glossy green hair. She was dressed in a gown of green and black, and looked every inch the reigning queen of Halloweentown.

“Well, that didn’t last long, did it?” she asked, and smiled. Marnie shrank back, huddling against her grandmother, and Agatha put an arm around her. Perryn shook her head. “Really--such fear, and all without any real reason. Why should you be afraid of me, darling? I’ve come to take you away from all this mess and madness. I’ve come to take you home.”

“Don’t you touch her,” snarled Luke.

Perryn just smiled. “Oh, really. What are you going to do to stop me, little goblin? Make me look at you?” She looked past him, to Marnie. “What have they told you, Marnie? That you’re some sort of princess or enchanted goose girl? Or--I know--have they told you that you’re actually the last heir to a secret line of witches, enchanted to forget your own true heritage?”

“Don’t listen to her, Marnie,” said Luke, sharply. “She’s lying.”

“If I’m lying, why don’t they want you to hear what I have to say?” Perryn’s wings fanned open and closed again, sending prism-sprays of light dancing across the walls. “None of this makes any sense, does it Marnie? None of this should be real.”

“No,” Marnie whispered. “It...it _doesn’t_ make sense.”

“Marnie...” Agatha began--too late. Marnie was already pulling away, standing a little bit apart from her. In the clearing, the werewolves stood stock still, ears up, and watched them.

Perryn took a gliding step forward, and Luke moved to block her access to Marnie. “See how hard they fight to keep you away from me?” she said. “They don’t want you to see how wrong all of this is. How foolish it is.”

“Who are you?” Marnie said, taking a slow step toward Perryn.

“My name is Perryn, child. I’m your fairy godmother.”

Luke flinched, already imagining what would happen next--what this new, rational Marnie would do. She’d take Perryn’s hand, and let the woman lead her away, and then it would all be over. The Cromwell line would die with Agatha. Kalabar would rule Halloweentown unchallenged.

He’d never see Marnie again.

“My fairy godmother?”

“Yes. I’ve come to grant your wish, child. I’ve come to take you home.”

“I’m not really a child, you know,” Marnie said seriously. “I’ll be eighteen this fall.”

“But you’re still my responsibility. I want to make sure these horrible people stop filling your head with lies and half-truths.” Perryn held out her hands. “Come with me. I’ll take you home.”

“I see,” Marnie said, and there was a wistful, dream-like quality to her voice. Agatha looked at her, and was afraid. Any doubts she might have had about Luke’s story had dissolved when Perryn appeared on her porch to take her newly restored granddaughter away; was she going to lose her family again, so very soon?

“So you’ll come with me?” said Perryn.

Luke stiffened, whispering, “Marnie, no...”

“Actually, no, I won’t,” Marnie said, and smiled, brightly. “See, I was sort of wondering whether or not Grandma and Luke here might be lying to me about all this stuff, but now that you’ve shown up, I’m pretty sure they’re telling the truth. I mean, why would you show up _now_ , instead of stopping him from taking me out of the house, or saving me from the werewolves, or, I don’t know, getting me out of that pop quiz in math last week? Your timing stinks. If anybody’s lying here, it’s you.”

“You insolent little brat!” Perryn snarled, wings snapping open. “I should--”

Marnie shook her head, answering calmly, “You won’t. I didn’t make any wishes. Grandma?”

“Yes, dear?” Agatha said, sounding stunned.

“I’m going to go inside now, okay?”

“Of course. Luke, go with her.”

“Yes, ma’am!” Still reeling, he offered Marnie his arm, and she took it as regally as the witch he remembered, leading him inside. The screen door banged shut behind them.

Perryn lunged for the door, and then recoiled, snarling. Agatha watched her, expression impassive. “Not so powerful now that you’re not invited, are you, Perryn?” she asked.

“Don’t be stupid! That’s not your granddaughter! She’s an imposter, and the goblin boy is mad!”

“Oddly, I don’t think you’re telling me the truth, old friend. There are no wishes here for you to use against me. You’re not welcome in my home, and neither are your beasts.” Agatha indicated the werewolves with a sweep of her hand. “Whatever you’ve done to my family, we’re going to undo it. And then we’ll see you banished.”

“You can try,” Perryn hissed, wings flapping until they became a blur of color in the air behind her. Then she was gone, leaving the stench of spoiled flowers in her wake.

“You should go as well,” Agatha said, turning to look at the werewolves. “There’s nothing for you here. My family is safe.”

They watched her, impassively, as she turned around and went inside, closing the door with a click.

Then they began to howl.

#

**61: Mirrors.**

“Marnie, you were...amazing!” Luke said, too delighted to remember how angry he’d been not long before.

“Was I?” Marnie asked, looking down at her stained and muddy knees. She’d wanted to believe the beautiful woman in the green and black gown; she’d wanted to accept that this was all some cruel trick, and go home, to homework and Dylan teasing her and Sophie getting into her things.

She’d wanted to, but she couldn’t, because whether or not she remembered this world, it seemed to remember her -- and whatever this Luke person who looked at her with such lost and lonely eyes might be, he wasn’t lying to her.

“You managed to get her to leave you alone, and you didn’t go with her. So I’d say yeah.” Luke looked at the mud smearing her robe, and asked, “Can I get you something to drink? Some hot cocoa, or cider?”

“I...” She was saved from having to answer by the return of her grandmother, who came straight to her and swept her into a tight hug.

“Oh, Marnie, my darling, I’m so sorry. Are you all right?”

“I’m fine, Grandma,” Marnie said, pulling back and brushing her hair away from her face with one hand. “I was just scared.”

“Well, you handled yourself wonderfully--you handled yourself like a true Cromwell. I couldn’t be any more proud if I had handled your training myself.”

“Actually,” Luke said, “you did. That’s how Marnie and I got to know each other so well. She kept coming to Halloweentown for more training.”

“Yes...I suppose that’s true,” Agatha said, and smiled. Her smile faded as she looked at Marnie’s drawn, worried face, and she asked, “Marnie, what’s wrong?”

“This. Everything. Maybe that fairy lady lied, Grandma, but...I’m _not_ a Cromwell witch, not really. I’m not the girl he thinks he remembers, either. I’m just me. I’m Marnie, and I’m frightened, and I still want to go home.”

“Oh,” Agatha said, softly. “I see. Well. I was expecting this, I suppose. Wait right here, both of you.” Straightening, she turned and walked back toward the kitchen.

Marnie looked to Luke, and was unsurprised to see that he wouldn’t meet her eyes. “Luke, I’m sorry.”

“Why should you be sorry?” he asked, looking up. “This isn’t your world anymore. You said so yourself. Maybe you’ll be happier if you just go home and forget any of this ever happened.”

“Luke--”

“No. You’re going to let me finish. If I’m going to let you walk away from here and not come back, you’re going to let me finish.” He turned to face her, hands balled into fists by his sides. “You owe me that much.”

Marnie bit her lip and nodded, not saying a word. Luke scowled at her, and continued; “I didn’t go back to the mortal world to get you because I cared about the Cromwell witches, Marnie, or even because I cared about Halloweentown. I _do_ care about Halloweentown--it’s my home, it’s the only place I belong--but when I went looking for you, I didn’t even know for sure there was anything wrong. I came for _you_ , Marnie Piper, ‘just the ordinary girl.’ Because I was worried about you, and because you’re my friend, and because the Marnie I know would never have willingly given up who she was. Not for some stupid wish, not because she wanted to be normal--not for anyone.

“You can leave if you want to, Marnie, but part of you is always going to be here in Halloweentown, with the people who love you and the person you were supposed to be. Maybe you think of yourself as normal now, but we don’t. And maybe you can be happy turning your back on all the things you might have achieved, but we’ll miss you, and Halloweentown will miss you...and I’ll miss you. For my whole life. Can you really turn your back on us now, Marnie? Before you know for sure who you’re supposed to be--the normal girl, or the Cromwell witch?

“Can you?”

Marnie was still staring at him when Agatha came back into the room, a second Pearl of Passage held in a bowl between her hands. “I made this in case we needed it. Luke, can you take Marnie home?”

“There’s been a change of plans, Grandma,” Marnie said, keeping her eyes on Luke as she stood. “We’re going back to the mortal realm so I can leave a note for Mom and get my things...but then I’m coming back.”

Agatha stared at her, while Luke closed his eyes and punched the air. “You mean you’re going to come back, dear?” she asked, eyes widening. “But I thought--”

“Maybe I belong in the mortal world and maybe I don’t; there’s only one way I’m going to find out.” Marnie held out her hands, reaching for the pearl. “How do you work this thing again?”


	4. What You Never Always Wanted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Marnie still isn't sure she's all-in, but at least she's willing to give it a shot. Maybe. For now.

**62: Upping the Stakes.**

“They locked me _out_ , Kalabar! That little _witch_ called me a liar, and then her grandmother refused me passage into their home!”

“She’s still a child, Perryn; why didn’t you just walk in and take her? You’re her fairy godmother after all.” Kalabar’s small remaining store of patience was evaporating rapidly. “I sent you to perform a simple, basic task. Now you come and tell me you were outsmarted by a witch who doesn’t even remember how to use her own powers? Why am I supposed to be sorry for you right now?”

Perryn stopped pacing, wings flickering agitatedly up and down as she snapped, “Because there _is_ an escape clause in this spell. Wishes don’t exist without back doors.”

“And? You built it in, didn’t you? You can keep it from happening.”

“It isn’t that simple. If she can fulfill the exit...”

“She’s a _child_. If she’s in the house, you can enter. Go back and take her, and we’ll be done with this!” He was all but ranting now. Perryn had warned him repeatedly that all wishes had their escape clauses--it was basic magical theory, really--but at the same time, any chance of the Pipers, and Marnie in specific, undoing the wish had seemed so unlikely that it verged on the impossible. Someone would have to retrieve her from the mortal world...which her grandmother had somehow done. Then her saviors would have to convince her to stay in Halloweentown...which they had also done.

Suddenly it didn’t seem so unlikely after all.

“No, Kalabar, she _isn’t_ just a child. She’s a Cromwell witch on the edge of adulthood, and whether _she_ understands her own powers or not, Halloweentown knows what she is. If she says she’s not a child, she’s not a child. None of the benefits, and none of the penalties. No free access for fairy godmothers.” Perryn allowed herself a small, bitter smile. “She couldn’t have put it better if she’d been coached.”

“Is there _any_ chance she’ll remember herself?”

“Not unless they manage to lift my spell. And even then, they can’t remove it from the entire family simply by restoring her--it’s a complex spell, and that makes it a complex removal.”

Kalabar paused. “The family.”

“What about them? They’re still safely tucked away in the mortal world, oblivious to all of this.”

“Sophie too?”

“Of course Sophie too,” she snapped.

“Sophie. _Little_ Sophie.” He smiled, slowly.

Perryn’s wings fluttered open and closed again, reflecting her confusion. “What are you talking about, Kalabar?”

“Sophie Piper is still a child. You’re her fairy godmother; her wish is currently under your guidance. Isn’t that so?”

“Yes...oh. Yes.” Perryn smiled back at him. “It is. And it’s well within the law for a fairy godmother to visit her charges--especially when they’re from a family as connected to our world as the Cromwell witches. I think it’s time we played sweet little Sophie a visit.”

Kalabar nodded, sudden visions of Gwen dancing once more behind his eyes. “Oh, yes. If they want to bring one little lost lamb home, we can do them one better.

“We can collect the whole flock.”

“And what we shepherd,” Perryn said, serenely, “we can shear--or slaughter.”

“You make a wondrous shepherdess,” Kalabar breathed. He offered her his hand, and they walked together out of the room, heading for the mortal world.

#

**63: Tales Out of School, Part II.**

There was a brilliant flash of light as Luke and Marnie appeared in the middle of the Piper family living room. The dim glow of the streetlights outside filtered in through the gauzy curtains. Marnie looked around and smiled, taking her hand away from the pearl with a small bounce.

“It worked!” she said. “I’ll go get my things.”

“Marnie, wait.” Luke grabbed her wrist, pulling her to a stop.

She turned to look at him, eyes wide and slightly hurt. “I said I’d go back with you. Don’t you trust me?”

“It’s not that. Isn’t someone usually home by now?” He let go of her, taking a cautious step toward the window and frowning. “It’s dark. Shouldn’t your mom be here?”

“Maybe they’re still at the hospital with Sophie. She wasn’t feeling very well.”

“So why is the car in the driveway?”

“What?” Marnie moved to stand beside him, peering out the window. Her mother’s car was clearly visible, reflecting the ambient light of the street in small glimmers. She moved to open the door, noting distractedly that it was unlocked, and looked out.

The car was still there, unchanged and empty.

Pulling her head back inside, Marnie closed the door. “Maybe everyone’s in bed. What time is it?”

“The clock says eight-thirty,” Luke said, pointing to the digital readout on the VCR.

Marnie’s frown deepened. “ _Someone_ should still be awake. Mom? Mom, I’m home!” She ducked into the kitchen, leaving Luke standing in the living room, looking increasingly grim.

The kitchen was empty and the lights were off. Marnie was about to duck out again when she stepped on something and paused, bending to pick it up. It was a tube of lipstick. Crouching down, she could see the rest of the contents of Gwen’s purse, scattered across the floor under the kitchen table. “Mommy?” she said, uncertainly.

There was no reply. Mutely, Marnie gathered the contents of her mother’s purse and went back into the living room, showing them to Luke.

“What is this?” he asked.

“Mom’s purse. She _never_ leaves the house without it. Ever. Or drops it on the floor.”

Luke frowned slowly before turning and looking toward the stairs. “Come on. Let’s check the rest of the house.”

He led the way up to the top of the stairs, with Marnie following just behind him; that was enough to cause him a small pang, as he realized that the real Marnie would never have let him go first. She’d have been leading the way, charging blindly into danger and probably getting the both of them killed.

He’d never realized how much he’d miss that about her.

It was just as dark in the upstairs hallway as it had been in the living room. “Dylan?” Marnie called, clicking on the hallway light. “Sophie? Mom?” There was no reply. 

“Marnie...”

“They have to be here somewhere.” Marnie pushed open the door to Dylan’s room, shouting, “Dylan?” His computer was on, displaying its screensaver in an endless loop, and his book bag was lying abandoned on the bed. Ducking past Luke, she shoved the next door open, and shouted, “Sophie?”

Sophie’s bed was unmade, and the covers were thrown askew in a way that made it obvious that she’d left in a hurry. Marnie froze, one hand on the doorknob, then whirled to face Luke, snarling, “This is all _your_ fault! That freaky fairy godmother lady did this, didn’t she? She came here and she _stole_ them because _you_ wouldn’t leave us alone!”

“You’re probably right,” Luke said quietly. “It was probably Perryn. But it’s not my fault, Marnie, and it’s not your grandmother’s fault either. We just wanted to bring you home. They’re evil. You can’t blame us for evil.”

“Can’t I?” Marnie put her hands over her face, sagging backward against the wall. “This would never have happened if you hadn’t come here.”

“Maybe not,” Luke said. “They might have just left you alone. But they might not have, and either way, they would have destroyed Halloweentown.”

“ _I don’t care_!” she shouted, uncovering her face and glaring at him.

“I think you do. You’re just scared. I can’t blame you--I’m scared to.” He smiled a little, bitterly. “See, when there’s trouble? I usually call you, and _you_ lead _me_ into danger. It’s not supposed to be the other way around. But it is, Marnie, and we don’t have a choice. Whether you want to be part of Halloweentown or not, you are. And whether you want to blame me for all of this or not, you’re going to have to help me if you want your family back.”

Marnie looked at him bleakly for a moment, and then looked away. “I hate you.”

Luke flinched, glad that she wasn’t looking at him, and couldn’t see how much that simple little statement affected him. _But I love you,_ he thought, desperately. Aloud, he said only, “Well, like you said, I don’t care.”

“Where did they take them?”

“Back to Halloweentown, most likely.” Luke shrugged, forcing himself to keep facing her. “They want to make sure we don’t break the spell.”

“So we’re going to go after them, right?”

“As soon as you get what we came for.” He jerked his head toward her room. “Get your things.”

“Right.” Marnie shook her head and ducked into her room, emerging a few moments later with her own Doc Martens on her feet and her backpack in one hand. “I’m ready.”

“Give me your hand.” Luke swallowed as Marnie put her hand over his, resisting the urge to jerk away. _She’s not really Marnie,_ he thought desperately. _It doesn’t matter if she hates me._

But she looked like Marnie. And that was enough to make her words, however casual, hurt.

There was a bright flash of light, and they were gone.

#

**64: What You Wanted.**

Sophie woke up first. She promptly wished she hadn’t.

Shackles were clamped around her wrists and ankles, holding her to a grimy stone wall. A few experimental tugs confirmed that the locks were sound; she couldn’t break free. Barely keeping herself from panic, she turned to look around, breathing shallowly through her mouth as she tried not to whimper.

The room was square, and all four walls were the same thick gray stone. There was an iron-banded door on the other side of the room. What she could see of the floor was covered in piles of dank, rotting straw. “It looks like a dungeon,” she whispered, shocked out of her fear by simple amazement.

The last thing she remembered was the woman standing in the doorway to her room--the woman in green, with the gossamer wings that opened and closed behind her like sails. She’d been sick in her bed, almost too tired to move, and at first, she’d thought the woman was a dream...until she saw her smiling.

No dream of hers would smile like that.

She’d taken a deep breath, intending to scream--and then there had been darkness until she awoke chained to the wall in a room she didn’t know.

Craning her neck, she looked to one side, eyes going wide again as she saw her mother hanging next to her. “Mom?” she whispered, and then, more fiercely, “Mom?”

Gwen groaned, but didn’t wake.

“They’ll be out for a while yet, dear. The older you are the longer it takes to recover when you’re affected by fairy magic. Another sad side effect of growing up.” The voice was sweet, but oily somehow, like it had a rancid underside. Sophie turned to face it, almost against her will, and found herself looking at the woman she’d seen just before blacking out. Her wings glowed faintly green in the dark, like phosphorescent rot. “You’re still innocent though, aren’t you, Sophie? Such a lovely little girl.”

“You’re just a dream,” Sophie said, aware of the quaking in her own voice. “I’m sick and hallucinating you.”

“Are you? Well, I’m quite disappointed to hear that, really--I thought I was a real person. I suppose that means you’ll stay chained to that wall forever, since I have the key, and hallucinations can’t open locks.” The fairy woman held up a small silver key, then closed her hand around it. When she opened her hand again, the key was gone. “A pity. I’m sure you would have liked to be free.”

“What _are_ you?” Sophie whispered.

“Oh, am I real now?” The fairy woman glided closer, putting her face only a few inches from Sophie’s, and said, “I’m your fairy godmother, dear. Isn’t this a lovely wish?”

On the other side of Gwen, Dylan groaned, and Sophie heard him say, “Wh-what? Where am I?”

Frowning, Perryn backed away. Playing with Sophie was entertaining, much like pulling the wings off of a butterfly would be, but it was much less amusing with an audience. “You’re in my dungeon Dylan, dear, and you’ll stay here as long as I care to keep you. All of you will.”

“Why are you doing this?” demanded Sophie.

Perryn looked back to her, and smiled. “Because you wanted a normal life, and when the normal world meets up with fairy tales and ghost stories, this is what happens.” She shrugged. “People get hurt. Nothing I can do about it, my dear. I’m just giving you what you wanted.”

Still smiling, Perryn faded into mist, and was gone.

#

**65: Sticks and Stones.**

Agatha was pacing back and forth in her own living room when Marnie and Luke reappeared. The weather was getting steadily worse outside; the winds were constant now, and the rain fell in short, bitter-cold bursts that came too frequently to allow the witches to fly but never lasted long enough to let the river trolls come out into the open. Kalabar and Perryn had finally created a climate in which all denizens of Halloweentown would be miserable--and miserable people are likely to do things that they’ll regret.

Now that she was aware of the way things were changing, Agatha was starting to wonder what the reason behind them might be, and she didn’t like any of the options she was coming up with. Kalabar would want to establish himself as more than just Mayor, and that meant absolute domination of Halloweentown.

She wasn’t sure her world would survive it.

When the flash of light appeared she whirled to face it, clapping her hands to together. “Oh, you’re back! We can finally--” She stopped, relief fading as she saw the grim look on Marnie’s face, and the stricken expression on Luke’s. “Marnie? Luke? What happened?”

“Kalabar happened,” Marnie said, coldly. “He took my family, Grandma. Mom, Dylan, Sophie--they’re all gone.” She pulled her hand away from Luke’s, letting it drop to her side. “He came to the mortal world and he took them.”

“But...how would he get into the house? He couldn’t, unless...of course!” Agatha groaned, closing her eyes as if the very idea pained her. “Sophie. Oh, poor Sophie. She’s still a child.”

“That means Perryn could get inside without an invitation,” Luke said. “She just walked right in, didn’t she?”

Agatha nodded, eyes still closed. “They never stood a chance.”

Marnie looked between them, and demanded, “What are you talking about? Where did they take my family? We have to get them back!”

“They probably took them to Kalabar’s house,” Luke said. “I used to go there all the time, back when I worked for him. It’s bigger inside than it is outside. He could hide them there, easy.”

“Oh, Marnie.” Agatha opened her eyes, shaking her head as she looked toward her granddaughter. “I am so sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. We’re going to get them back, and then I’m leaving here forever.” Marnie squared her shoulders, jaw set. “This isn’t my world, and I have had enough.”

“Marnie--”

“No. I listened to you once, and an evil fairy godmother stole my family! God, that even _sounds_ stupid!” Marnie shook her head. “We’re getting them back, and I’m never coming here again.”

“But Marnie--”

“Let her,” Luke interrupted. Both Agatha and Marnie turned to stare at him. He shrugged. “Either we break the spell or we don’t. If we break it, she’ll remember everything, and she’ll stay because she wants to. If we don’t...frankly, I don’t want her to stay. She’s not my Marnie. She’s just a spoiled little mortal girl who doesn’t know when she needs to think about someone else.” He looked at Marnie, briefly, then shook his head. “I’ll be outside when you’re ready to move.”

They both stood there, watching, as he stormed outside. Marnie jumped when the door slammed, and looked toward Agatha, eyes wide.

“Did you hear what he said about me?”

“Yes, dear. I did,” Agatha said, turning to face her granddaughter.

“Aren’t you going to do something about it?”

“Yes. I’m going to agree with him.” While Marnie stared at her, Agatha continued, “I am sorry you don’t remember your heritage, Marnie, and I’m sorry our world has inconvenienced you. But he’s right; you’re not acting like a Cromwell. You’re not even acting like a decent human being. We’re trying to do the right thing. The least you could do is help. Think about that, won’t you? Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to figure out how to save my daughter.”

Agatha turned and walked into the kitchen, leaving Marnie standing alone.

#

**67: Strange Relations.**

“Grandma?” Marnie stepped slowly into the kitchen, biting her lip. “Are you in here?”

Agatha continued adding ingredients to her cauldron, keeping her back to her granddaughter as she said, “Yes, dear. I’m right here. Stand back; my cauldron spits sometimes. What is it you need?”

“I just wanted to say that...I’m sorry I yelled, and I won’t do it again. I know you didn’t do this on purpose. You just wanted to help us remember you.”

“It wasn’t my idea.”

“What?”

“I said it wasn’t my idea.” Agatha straightened, turning to face Marnie. “I gave up on you a long time ago--or at least, I remember giving up on you. Perryn’s spell was powerful enough to alter the memories of your entire family, including me, the entire line of Cromwell witches...but not one goblin boy’s. What does that say to you, Marnie?”

“That goblins are immune to magic?” she ventured. There, again, was the nagging feeling that she should have a different answer; that she knew Luke better than that, and that he mattered to her more than what she knew implied. She just didn’t know why, and so she shoved the feeling aside.

Agatha sighed. “I suppose you really are your father’s daughter now, aren’t you? And he didn’t even live to see it. Just another mortal girl from a mortal world...how strange we must seem. How impossible and improbable. I’m sorry I lost you, if Luke is right. If he’s wrong...I’m sorry we never had each other. Because I certainly don’t have you now.”

“Grandma...”

“I’ll help you save your family because they’re my family too, Marnie. I love you, and I will always love you, no matter who you grow up to be. But your place isn’t here. You were right in the first place--you don’t belong in Halloweentown. And knowing that...I don’t think we should get too attached to one another. Not if I’m just going to have to lose you again. Because the portal is never going to open for you.”

Marnie looked at her for a moment, stunned, and almost missed the small, miserable feeling in the back of her head that was screaming that this was wrong, wrong, wrong. She shivered, shaking it off, and said in a small voice, “If you think that’s best.”

“I think it’s the worst thing in the world, Marnie. I think I’m looking at my granddaughter and admitting that as far as my world is concerned, she really did die all those years ago. But I also think that it’s the only way.” Agatha shook her head. “Go back to the living room, Marnie. I’ll join you when the spell is done.”

Marnie nodded mutely, and turned to walk, head down, back into the empty living room.

#

**68: What You Wanted, Part II.**

“Sophie? Dylan? Are you there?”

“Mom!” Sophie leaned as far to the side as her chains would allow, straining to see. Gwen had lifted her head and was peering muzzily around the room; she looked more dazed than either of her children had when they awake. Remembering what the green woman said, Sophie hastened to calm her, saying, “Stay calm. Fairy magic takes longer to wear off if you’re an adult.”

“Wh-what?” Gwen said slowly, turning toward the sound of her younger daughter’s voice. “Don’t be silly, Sophie. There’s no such thing as...no such thing as...” Her head pitched forward again as she blacked out again.

“Mom?” said Dylan, tugging against the limits of his own chains. “Mom! Sophie, what’s wrong with her? Why won’t she wake up?”

“Pretty Gwen. Pretty Gwennie Cromwell. How I’ve missed the sound of your voice.” The voice came from the side of the room where the light came in. Sophie and Dylan looked toward it, watching with dread as a tall, slender man stepped into the open, carrying a rose in one outstretched hand.

Dylan stared at him. “I...who are you?” he said. For a moment--just a moment--he’d felt like he knew the man. Then the feeling passed, replaced by the same terror that he’d been swimming in since he first awoke.

“That doesn’t matter, now does it?” the man asked, walking over and dragging the rose slowly along Gwen’s cheek. She didn’t stir. “Our roles in this little passion play are simple and defined. You’re the captives, and I’m your captor.” He looked up, and smiled at Sophie. “You look so like your mother did at your age, you know. Pretty and full of fire. Really, you look almost as much like her as Marnie does.”

“Marnie,” Sophie whispered, and looked frantically around the room. She’d been so distracted with her own plight that she hadn’t thought to check for her older sister--but now that she was paying attention, it didn’t take long at all to confirm that the four of them were alone. “Where is she?”

“Your sister beat you here by quite a margin, my dear,” the man said, and snapped his fingers. The rose disappeared. “She’s the one that told us where to find you. She was absolutely delighted for the chance to make a small exchange--her pesky family for a new life. A life that was just for her.”

“You’re lying!” Sophie shouted.

Dylan glared at him. “Marnie would never do that.”

“Oh, wouldn’t she?” The man snapped his fingers again, and a clear ball of light appeared in front of Gwen’s limp form, hovering so that both children could see what it contained. There was Marnie, dressed in strange, brightly-colored robes, talking a woman that Dylan recognized from old photographs of their mother’s.

“Grandma?” he said, disbelieving.

“Yes, and your wayward sister, come home at last.” The man smiled, and the globe broke, dissipating. “She gave you to us in exchange for getting everything she ever wanted. Everything that could have been yours, if your mother hadn’t made a similar exchange so many years ago.”

“You’re lying,” Sophie said again, but her voice was weaker this time, conviction fading. What if he was telling the truth? What if Marnie had finally gotten truly fed up, and just decided to get rid of them?

“Maybe I am and maybe I’m not, little Sophie, but here’s a thought for you to consider: if your sister can just, poof, wish you away...who’s to say you couldn’t do the same to her?” He smiled. “My name is Kalabar. If you’d like to make a wish of your own...just call.”

Turning, he walked away, and was gone.

#

**69: If You Love Something...**

“Luke?” Marnie let the door swing shut behind her as she stepped out onto the porch. The goblin was standing at the edge, elbows resting on the railing, looking out across the night. “I was afraid you’d left again.”

“That’s your job, isn’t it?” he said bitterly. “I’m not stupid enough to leave. Kalabar’s minions would have me before I got halfway home.”

“You really risked a lot to bring me back here, didn’t you?” Marnie walked over and leaned next to him, looking up at the cloud-covered sky. “Wow. You can’t even see the moon.”

“Kalabar likes it dark,” Luke said. “It’s not normally like this.”

“What’s it like?”

He glanced over to her, and saw that she wasn’t even looking at him. She didn’t sound like she was joking... “It’s wonderful,” he said. “We don’t have light pollution like you do in the mortal world, so at night, the sky is filled with so many stars that they’re like smoke and diamonds in the sky, and witches ride their brooms across the moon.” _Witches like you,_ he thought, but didn’t say it aloud.

“I saw Grandma riding her broom earlier. That was pretty impressive. I thought witches only did that in stories.” She looked at him then, and asked, “Do I...does the Marnie you know ride a broom?”

“Like a bat out of hell,” Luke replied dryly, before he could stop himself. Then, more seriously: “You got your grandmother to buy you a broom the very first time you visited. You’ve always loved to fly.”

“Do you like to fly?”

“Me? No. I hate it. Goblins are supposed to keep their feet on the ground, not up in the air.” He shrugged. “Not that it’s ever stopped you from hauling me onto your broom when you thought we needed to go somewhere in a hurry. I’m pretty used to it.”

“Right.” Marnie looked back out at the night, and asked, “Luke? How did we meet?”

“What?”

“How did we meet? We must have met sometime, if this is all real--and it’s stolen my family, so I guess I have to treat it like it is if I want to get them back. So how did we meet?”

“I...oh.” Luke turned around so that he was leaning against the rail, and folded his arms over his chest. “Your grandmother used to go to visit you every Halloween, when the doorway between Halloweentown and the mortal world would open naturally. She loved you so much. Everyone knew about it, even people like me who didn’t know her very well. Then one year, when she had to leave you, you followed her onto the bus to find out where she went. You brought Sophie and Dylan with you, and you all wound up here.” He smiled, just a little. “I remember seeing you that first trip...I was such a punk back then, and you were so amazed by everything. You were just so _happy_ to be here, and to see our world. It made me reconsider a lot of things. I mean, if this is such a great world, how could I just wander around being so mad all the time?”

“And we wound up being friends?”

“You weren’t my friend, Marnie. You were my _best_ friend.” He’d given up everything he’d thought he ever wanted to help her; he’d sacrificed the human face Kalabar gave him in order to keep the Cromwells from being defeated. His reward had been a Halloweentown that was still filled with wonderful things...and Marnie, to share it with him. That, alone, had been enough to convince him that in the end, what he’d gotten was what he’d wanted all along.

“Was I always this much of a jerk?”

“No. Pushy, yes. But a total jerk, no.” Luke looked toward her. “There was this time when Kalabar’s son, Kal, decided to suck all the magic out of Halloweentown and use it to bring his father back. I turned into a human, all gray and sad, and you saved me. Turned me back into a goblin, reminded me of who I was. Then you made me ride on your broom while you traveled through time to fix things. I was nauseous for a week.”

“I saved you? By turning you back into a _goblin_?” Try as she might, Marnie couldn’t quite keep the amazed disgust out of her voice.

“Saved me,” Luke repeated. “I’m not human, Marnie, and even when I used to want to be...” _Handsome,_ he thought. “...normal, I was just trying to be something I wasn’t. I’m a goblin. My parents were goblins, their parents were goblins, and if I had kids, they’d be goblins too. This is what I’m supposed to be, and you’re a lot of the reason I came to terms with that. You saved me. Why do you think I’m trying so hard to save you?”

Marnie winced. “I’m sorry I was so...”

“Rotten?”

“Rotten, yeah. I’m just scared.”

“It’s okay.” Luke straightened, and offered her his hand. “It’s my turn to remind you who you really are. If we save them and you still want to go back to the mortal world, I’ll help you get back. But you have to at least try to remember.”

She pushed herself away from the rail and took his hand; this time, she even managed not to flinch. “I’ll try.”

“Good.” _If you love something,_ he thought, _let it go. If it doesn’t come back, it was never really yours._ The words made sense. He could almost even make himself believe them.

So why did they hurt so much?

Hand in hand, they walked back into the house.

#

**70: Taking Action.**

Agatha was sitting on the couch when they entered. She had moved her cauldron into the living room, and was watching it bubble over an enchanted flame. When the door closed, she looked up, eyes going first to their joined hands, then, intently, to Marnie’s face, studying her granddaughter for changes. There were none; she still looked like the slightly dazed and distinctly petulant mortal girl that Luke had brought back to Halloweentown with him.

 _Still,_ she thought, _I know Luke must be part of the key to breaking this wish. The closer they are, the more likely it becomes._

“Grandma?” said Marnie, pulling her hand free of Luke’s. “What’s going on?”

“Perryn was able to block your brother and sister from my location spells, but she couldn’t break my connection to your mother; Gwen’s my child, which makes my trackers stronger, and she’s too old. She can only be affected tangentially by fairy magic.” Aggie indicated the cauldron surface.

Marnie rushed forward to see, gasping as she spotted her mother’s reflection in the clear water of the cauldron. “Mom!”

“Don’t touch it, Marnie, or you’ll void the spell. She’s in Kalabar’s house; he has her chained to the wall, and from what I _can’t_ get the cauldron to focus on, I’d say he has your brother and sister in the same room. All I can really see is her.” Agatha’s mouth narrowed to a thin, hard line as she said, “And the others. He’s been a busy boy, Kalabar has; he has half the city council and all the coven elders in his dungeon as well, and most of the fairy godparents.”

“He’s taking out the opposition,” Luke said, slowly.

Agatha nodded. “Yes. I think he is. That means he’s planning to move, and soon. We need to hurry.”

Marnie looked between them, and asked, “What does that mean? Move where?”

“There is _one_ way they could make it impossible to break the wish, Marnie,” Agatha said, almost gently, and forced herself not to look at Luke. “If Kalabar can change the world so greatly that it’s not possible for your old world to exist anymore--if he kills someone that your reality requires in order to return to normal--then nothing we do will change things back. He can’t kill them himself, and neither can Perryn, or they risk undoing their magic. But...”

“Fairy godmothers can’t raise the dead. Not even by unmaking a wish,” Luke said, grimly. “If we don’t save them and make Marnie remember soon, she’ll never remember at all, will she?”

“No, Luke.” Agatha looked up at him, expression grave. “We’re running out of time.”

“Just what I wanted to hear,” he said, sourly. “We need a plan.”

“I think I have one,” Agatha said, and reached into her robe, pulling out two small amulets. “These should hide you long enough to let you get into Kalabar’s house and find Marnie’s family. Bringing her close to them may be enough of the familiar mixed into the strangeness of Halloweentown that it will weaken the spell.” And it would keep Luke moving. The two most likely targets of Kalabar’s ire were Luke, and herself; he wouldn’t dare kill Gwen or any of the children, or even set them up to die. Not only would that risk what he’d gained, but it would lessen their pain.

No, she knew Kalabar too well for that. Gwen had spurned him when she married a human. He’d want her to live mortal, isolated from her heritage, and suffering for reasons she could no longer truly understand.

Luke and Agatha, on the other hand...better than they be apart, and that he stay moving.

Marnie reached out to take the amulets, passing one to Luke. “What should we do if we find them?”

“Get them out,” Luke said.

“How?”

“I trust you. You’ll figure something out.” The look he gave Agatha telegraphed, clearly, that his thoughts had taken a path very similar to hers. He knew why she wanted them to go, and he wasn’t going to argue.

If there was a chance that it would bring back Marnie, he’d do it.

“It will be all right, Marnie,” Agatha said, trying to sound soothing. “They won’t be able to see you. Kalabar has Perryn on his side, but I’m still a more powerful witch than either of them truly understands. I have all the strength of the Cromwell clan behind me. Now go. Find your family.”

“All right, Grandma,” said Marnie, and darted over to hug her before heading toward the door.

Luke hung back, watching Marnie, and said, “We’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be waiting,” said Agatha. She stayed on the couch, folding her hands in her lap, and watched as they walked out into the night. When the door was shut she closed her eyes, and whispered, “Please, Luke. Watch out for her. And be _careful_.”

#

**71: Making Plans.**

“Well?” Perryn said, turning toward Kalabar as he walked back into the room. “Are you satisfied now?”

“They certainly don’t remember who I am,” Kalabar said, moving to his desk and sitting down. “Poor, lost little lambs. So frightened of this strange new world.”

“What have you done?” she asked, smiling slowly. “You sound smug. Did you break one of them?”

“No. But their mother is still asleep, and children are so suggestible, aren’t they? I just told them the truth. That they were here because Marnie abandoned them to go and gallivant around our little fantasy world.”

Perryn laughed, wings flaring open. “Oh, you marvelous, monstrous man! Did they believe you?”

“Not yet. But they will, if they’re given enough time; fear is a lovely motivator, especially when you’re young and cold and far away from home.” He picked up a letter opener, letting it spin between his fingers. “If we can’t destroy the Cromwell clan, perhaps we can subvert it. Turn the younger ones against their elders.”

“And Agatha? The goblin boy?”

“They don’t matter.” He dropped the letter opener onto the desk, point-down, where it landed with a ‘thunk.’ “They’ll never manage to free Gwen or the children before my agents catch up with them, and then, if there’s an accident...”

“Remember, Kalabar, we can’t kill them on purpose,” Perryn cautioned, wings furling. “It would be safer to set your agents on Gwen. She’d be easier to lose in an accident.”

“No,” he said, coldly. “We still need her.”

“For what? She’s a risk. She’s a witch with no magic now, but that could change, Kalabar. We should get rid of her.”

“And I said no!” He paused, lowering his voice before he said, more soothingly, “We can use her to control the children. Lose her, lose the control.”

Perryn eyed him, wings flicking lightly open and closed again. She knew about his past affairs with Gwen Cromwell, and she wasn’t blind; she’d seen the way he still looked at the witch.

But he’d married her, not Gwen, and his logic was good. Sighing, she said, “Of course, Kalabar. And I’m sure there will be some accident to ensure that the boy or the old woman is dead by morning.”

“Trust me,” he said, and stood, moving to embrace her. She’d missed one small fact in her assessment of the situation, and he wanted to be sure she kept missing it, right up until it was too late.

Killing Luke or Agatha would invalidate the world in which the wish was made, yes.

But so would killing Perryn.

He pressed his mouth to hers, closing his eyes, and thought of Gwen Cromwell...and how much her daughters had come to look like her.

#

**72: Breaking and Entering.**

The dark shape of Kalabar’s house seemed to dominate the skyline as Luke and Marnie picked their way through the woods. Luke led the way, and he’d found that if he kept her distracted by pointing out owls and interesting shapes in the trees, she didn’t fall as much; it was like some small, instinctive part of her still remembered the way, as long as she didn’t think about it.

It might just be wishful thinking on his part and he knew that, but he was grasping at straws, and any reassurance that his Marnie still existed was better than none. His Marnie knew the forest better than he did. This Marnie knew it too, if she didn’t think about it.

He couldn’t imagine that was a bad thing.

They stopped at the edge of the trees, peering out toward the house. “I can see the back door from here,” Marnie said. “How are we supposed to get inside?”

“Agatha said the amulets would protect us. Keep Kalabar from seeing us. I guess we have to take her word for it.”

“Luke...I’m scared.”

“Don’t worry,” Luke said, and flashed her a brief, insincere grin. “I’ll protect you.”

“You better,” she said, and slid her hand into his. They walked across the lawn to the door, flinching at every sound. At one point a patrol loped past no more than ten feet away, and they froze, waiting to be captured...but the werewolves just kept going.

“They really can’t see us,” Marnie breathed.

“Told you we’d be fine,” said Luke, trying to project confidence and calm. It wasn't working very well. “Come on.”

They hurried the rest of the way across the lawn, scurrying up onto the porch. Marnie grabbed the doorknob, trying to wrench the door open, and stopped, groaning. “Luke, it’s locked! What are we supposed to do now?”

“Do I look like I know how to pick a lock?” He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t think there’s another way in.”

“Then it’s hopeless.” She slumped against the wall. “We made it this far, and now we’re going to be stopped by a locked door.”

He stared at her. “That’s it? You’re just going to give up?”

“Do you have a better idea?”

“You never just give up, Marnie. You find a way around the rules. You keep going.” He rubbed his face with one hand. “Maybe you can try a spell?”

“Luke, I’m not a witch. Maybe I was once, but...”

“You didn’t fall down in the forest.”

“What?”

“When you stopped thinking about where you were going and trying to decide where to put your feet, you stopped falling. You still know who you are, deep down.” And oh, he hoped that he was telling her the truth, because she was looking at him with wide eyes that held a terror he’d never seen on the real Marnie’s face, and if it didn’t stop soon, he was going to break. “You told me once that magic was just knowing what you wanted and letting yourself have it. You want your family, Marnie. You want to be able to go home to your nice normal life in your nice normal world. You want the door to be unlocked. So let yourself have it.”

She continued to stare at him for a moment, then closed her eyes and said, “The door is unlocked,” in a soft, firm voice.

Luke leaned over and tested the knob again. The door swung open on a long, dark hallway, the corners filled with cobwebs.

“You did it,” he said.

Marnie opened her eyes, staring at him. “Really?”

“Really. Come on.” He started quickly into the house, pretending that he hadn’t seen her reaching for his hand. The spell, primitive and basic as it was, was still the best sign he’d had that the real Marnie still existed. He couldn’t let her touch him right now.

She’d feel the shaking in his hands.

#

**73: Dark Shadows.**

Kalabar’s house had seemed huge from the outside, but inside, it was even worse; like most witches or warlocks, he’d simply added new rooms whenever the fancy struck him, until the interior and exterior bore little to no resemblance to one another. Luke and Marnie walked through the halls, sliding into corners whenever one of the infrequent patrols passed them. No sense in taking chances.

What hope he’d felt when Marnie managed to witch the lock open was fading, quickly. She’d screamed once, when she walked into a cobweb; she would have screamed again, when she saw a rat, if he hadn’t clapped a hand over her mouth and ordered her to keep it in. She had access to the Cromwell powers, but she still wasn’t his Marnie.

“This place goes on forever,” Marnie whispered, as they stepped into a long hall filled with stuffed and mounted animals. Luke grabbed her arm as she was about to bump into a rearing bear, pulling her back. “Hey! What did you do that for?”

“If you touch them, they may come back to life, and then they’ll probably be able to see us, amulet or no.” Luke looked grimly around the hall. Most of the creatures on display came equipped with fangs and claws, and in a few cases, like the stuffed manticore, things that were even worse. “I don’t want to fight these off. Do you?”

Marnie paled. “No. What are we supposed to do?”

“Keep searching. They have to be in here somewhere--Agatha wouldn’t have sent us here unless it was the right place.” Or unless Kalabar’s magic had somehow become powerful enough to mislead the last of the Cromwell witches...and he didn’t even want to think about that until he had to.

“They were in a dark place, Grandma said. A basement, or a dungeon...”

“So we need to be going down?”

“I think that would be a good start,” Marnie said, and looked to him, as if she were seeking his approval. “Does that make sense to you?”

She was finally starting to take charge, and she wanted his opinion? He’d have told her she was on the right track even if she claimed they needed to look in a city populated entirely by talking humanoid ducks. “That sounds like a good idea. I think I saw a stairway three halls back. Maybe if we take that down, we can find our way to someplace deeper.”

“It’s not like we could wind up any more lost than we already are,” Marnie said, with a small, fleeting smile.

“Right,” Luke said, and smiled back as he stepped toward the door. “Come on. Let’s find the stairs.”

#

**74: Turncoats.**

“Is Mom awake?”

“No, Sophie. She’s not awake this time either. Ask again in five minutes.” Dylan slumped in his chains. “I’ve decided this is all a dream, you know. I should never have eaten the cafeteria meatloaf. I went where sane men do not go, and now I’m paying the price.”

“It’s not a dream, Dylan. How could I be in your dream?” Sophie pulled on her own chains, wincing as the manacles bit into her wrists. “This is real.”

“No, it’s not. I’m dreaming that you’re in my dream. You represent my subconscious mind trying to fool me into believing this is the truth.” He closed his eyes. “I’m just going to wait, and this whole thing will go away.”

“I’d kick you if I could reach you.”

“Too bad you’re chained to that wall, then, huh?”

Sophie glared toward the sound of her brother’s voice, then asked, “Dylan? Do you think Kal--that man was telling the truth about Marnie? That she sold us to these people?” She didn’t want to say Kalabar’s name: not until she was ready.

“I don’t know.” Dylan sighed. “Maybe. It’s a dream, so anything’s possible.”

“But why would she do something like that?”

“Boredom? Wanted a change? Was angry because she had to babysit you on Prom Night? I don’t know. Maybe this is like that movie _Labyrinth_ and she didn’t think anyone was listening. I really don’t know. Now leave me alone, I want to concentrate on waking up.”

“Dylan, this is serious. It’s not a dream. Mom won’t wake up, and maybe that guy was telling the truth--maybe Marnie’s forgotten about us. Or just doesn’t care.”

“So what should we do, Sophie, huh?” Dylan snapped, rattling his chains. “Should we sell out? Go to work for this Kalab--”

“ _Don’t say his name_!” Sophie shrieked. Gwen groaned, shifting in her chains, and then was still. Taking a deep breath, Sophie glanced toward her mother, and said, “If we say his name, he’ll come. We shouldn’t call him until we’re sure we want him.”

Part of her was sure that Kalabar was the _last_ thing they wanted. She’d never met him before, she knew that, and at the same time...she looked at him, and she tasted pumpkin ice cream and smelled smoke, and felt a strange, chilling tightness in her chest. Whatever he was, she was sure that he wasn’t one of the good guys.

But she also wasn’t sure that he was lying to them. If what he’d shown them was the truth, Marnie was happy and safe and with their grandmother, while she and Dylan were chained up in a dark dungeon and Gwen refused to wake up.

Even if he wasn’t exactly a nice guy, how much did they really have to lose?

“Jeez, Sophie. Don’t freak out.”

“If we call him, he’ll come.”

“And then what happens?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“So who cares?”

“Maybe we do.” How much did they have to lose? Not much. Closing her eyes, Sophie said, “Let’s find out. Kalabar? We’re ready to talk now.

“Come back.”

#

**75: Going Down.**

“Look--there are the stairs.”

“I thought they were closer than this,” grumbled Luke, following Marnie to the end of the hall. “This place needs maps. And maybe a convenient series of shortcuts.”

“Or a tram system,” Marnie suggested, putting her hand on the banister. “Come on--let’s get moving.”

“Because exploring deep, dark caverns in the houses of people who want me dead is always my hobby,” Luke muttered, and followed her as she started down the stairs.

“You need better hobbies,” Marnie said.

Luke bit back a smile. Maybe she was making fun of him, but she was also making jokes in the face of danger, and that was one of the things he’d always loved about her--that, and her irredeemable cockiness. “I learned this one from the best.”

“Really? Who?”

The desire to smile faded, and Luke brushed past her as he went further down the stairs, moving faster now. “Nobody you know. Come on.”

“How far do these stairs _go_ , anyway? It feels like we’ve already gone down past where the basement should be.”

“Kalabar’s a warlock, remember? He can make the place as big as he wants it to be.”

“So he has a thing for stairs that never end?”

“Probably.”

“What about deep, scary dungeons?”

“Probably those, too--wait.” Luke froze, raising his hand as he gestured for Marnie to stop walking. She descended another step then froze, bumping into him.

“Luke, what--”

“Look--there’s light on up ahead. We’re nearly there.” The shadows thinned about eight steps down, replaced by the uneasy flicker of firelight. “Come on.”

Moving more cautiously now, the pair descended to the end of the stairs, stepping into a hallway with rough stone walls and a low ceiling. Torches were set every ten feet or so, burning with sullen green light.

“Witch fire,” Luke said grimly. “No heat. No comfort. Just light.”

“How do you know so much about witchcraft?” Marnie asked, creeping along behind him.

“You taught me.”

“Oh.” They were both silent as they walked down the hall, pausing at a wide, open doorway. Squinting, Marnie said, “I can’t see.”

“I can,” said Luke, and stepped inside. “Marnie, grab a torch.”

“Right.” She turned to grab a witch fire torch from the wall, nearly dropping it as she tried to get a grip on the wood. “Luke, what’s--” She stepped inside, and froze.

Dylan and Gwen were hanging limply from their chains, eyes closed, unmoving.

Sophie was nowhere to be seen.

#

**76: Changing Sides.**

“You’ve made the right choice, Sophie,” Kalabar said, leaning back in his chair. “Halloweentown is very comfortable, and I’m a powerful man here. We’ll take good care of you.”

“The best,” Perryn said, fanning her wings slowly open and closed. She’d been doubtful of Kalabar’s plan when he first proposed trying to turn one of the Cromwells, but here they were, with the last and youngest daughter of that line standing in front of them, ready to serve. Perhaps his ideas about those witches weren’t so far off after all. Perhaps they really _could_ be brought properly to heel.

As the pumpkin went, so went Halloweentown, yes, but the Cromwells were almost as powerful, both in terms of symbolism and influence. Owning the last of them might be worth the risk she represented.

“Remember our deal,” Sophie said, stiffly. “I’ll stay with you so that Marnie can’t help our grandmother take over Halloweentown, but Dylan and Mom get to go home if they want to.” And in exchange, he’d promised to give her the one thing she’d always wanted: he was going to teach her magic. Real _magic_. The kind she’d always known had to exist out there, somewhere...

For a moment, she tasted pumpkin ice cream again, and heard the sound of cruel, distant laughter. But she shook it away, and returned to the present, where Kalabar was still smiling at her.

The present was more pleasant anyway.

“Of course, Sophie!” said Kalabar, shaking his head. “I always respect my bargains. They’re completely free, if they want to be. Once they wake up, that is.”

“Mom _will_ wake up, right?” asked Sophie, shooting a sharp look toward Perryn. She trusted Kalabar--barely--but not this green-haired fairy woman. She didn’t like the way Perryn looked at her.

“Your mother will wake up when the spell wears off,” said Perryn, voice stiff. “It takes longer for older individuals. Of course you understand why we can’t send them back now...”

“Magical comas don’t go over well in the mortal world. Sophie knows that, don’t you, Sophie?”

“Yes. I do,” Sophie said, and frowned. She didn’t like the fact that they were still holding Dylan and her mother--Dylan definitely didn’t want to stay, he’d made that clear when Kalabar came to talk to them, and Gwen wasn’t even awake--but she couldn’t see any other options.

“You know what we have to do to make it safe to send them home,” Perryn said, quietly.

“Oh, yes,” Sophie said. This was something she was firm about, at least: something clear and easy.

“We have to stop my sister.”

#

**77: Reunions.**

“Mom?” Marnie whispered.

Gwen didn’t move. Dylan lifted his head, squinting at Marnie before he said, “Oh, my dream finally decided to show me the other sister. Hello, other sister. Hello, other sister’s creepy-looking friend. Orange hair is a nice touch. I wonder if this is highlighter anxiety. This is all just goth OfficeMax...”

“Dylan!” Marnie rushed over to him, tugging futilely at the chains on his wrists. “Dylan, what _happened_? Where’s Sophie?” Luke moved to Gwen while Marnie spoke, checking her right wrist for a pulse. It was there, and strong; she wasn’t hurt. Just sleeping.

“Tell your weird friend to keep his hands off Mom. This isn’t that kind of dream,” Dylan said, eyeing Luke. “Sophie went with the warlock guy who said you’d brought us here.”

Marnie paled. “He said what?”

“He said you sold us out. And then Sophie said his name and he came here, and she went away with him--”

“Don’t say his name!” Luke said sharply, as he stepped over to join them. “If he’s got a listening spell on the dungeon, he’ll come to the sound of his name. Your mom’s fine, she’s just knocked out. We need to get them out of here.”

“But how? We don’t have keys to these chains...”

“Magic, Marnie, remember? Just know what you want, and let yourself have it.” Luke looked at her seriously, thinking, _Just want to come home, Marnie. Want this to end. Want to know who you really are..._ “That’s all you ever have to do. Want.”

“Want...” she repeated, frowning.

“What’s he talking about, Marnie? What does he mean, ‘you just have to want’?”

“Quiet, Dylan. I’m trying to concentrate.” Marnie placed a hand lightly on the manacles at his wrist, saying, “Lock, open. I want you open.”

Luke held his breath, waiting for something...anything...to happen. Maybe the door was just coincidence; maybe she had no magic at all. Maybe his Marnie was gone forever...

And then the manacles clicked open as smoothly as if she’d used the key, and Luke had to hurry to catch Dylan before he fell to the dungeon floor.

“What was _that_?” Dylan demanded, pushing away from Luke and standing on his own.

“Magic,” said Marnie, a wondering note in her voice as she moved toward Gwen. “Guys, come here. I need you to catch Mom.”

Still eyeing Luke as if he were going to vanish at any moment, Dylan moved into position. “This is a very strange dream.”

“It’s not going to get any better from here,” Luke muttered, moving to stand on the other side of him. Marnie touched the manacles and they opened, letting Gwen fall into the waiting arms of the two boys. She didn’t wake.

“Now what happens?” asked Dylan, slowly.

“Now we get her out of here,” said Luke.

Marnie nodded, firmly. “Now we go home.”

#

**78: Breaking and Exiting.**

If the stairs had seemed endless before, Luke thought sourly, that was nothing compared to how they felt when trying to back up them while carrying the lower half of an unconscious woman. Marnie had Gwen’s head and shoulders, and Dylan was at least managing to walk on his own, although he stopped periodically to announce, _again_ , that this was nothing but a particularly graphic and unpleasant dream.

Luke was just about ready to tell him to go back to bed and wait to wake up when Marnie’s voice broke through his irritation, saying, “Luke, I think I see light.”

“What?” He looked over his shoulder, and relaxed slightly, saying, “It’s the top of the stairs. We’re almost there.”

“Are the charms Grandma made really going to be enough to hide us all?”

“Oh, definitely,” Luke said, while thinking, _Almost certainly not._ If she believed in their effectiveness, they might actually keep working. Maybe. And if they weren’t going to work, it was already too late to do anything but try to get out as quickly as possible.

“If you say so,” Marnie said dubiously, and followed Luke up the rest of the stairs, still carrying her sleeping mother’s upper half.

Dylan looked around the hall with interest, commenting, “Pseudo-gothic decorations with a cheap fairy tale flare. I feel like I’m dreaming a made for TV movie.”

“Marnie, can you shut him up?” asked Luke, backing toward the end of the hall. Gwen was still showing no signs of waking up, and that was starting to worry him, a little. He’d never really thought much about what fairy magic would do to adults. Now he was beginning to wonder whether the effects were reversible.

“Dylan, be quiet,” Marnie said.

“Why should I? This is my dream, and you and your stupid goblin can’t control it.” Dylan continued to study the walls.

Marnie frowned at him for a moment, then smiled as the answer occurred to her. “Maybe so. But if this is your dream, you shouldn’t have given me magic powers. Want to be a frog until you wake up, Dylan?”

He gave her a startled look, then started walking faster, saying, “I didn’t want to talk to you, anyway.”

“Thought so.” Looking to Luke, Marnie smirked. “It’s just a matter of knowing how to talk to your baby brother.”

“Maybe,” said Luke, with a frown, “but when did you tell him that I was a goblin?”

Marnie paused. “I...I didn’t.”

“I didn’t think so,” Luke replied, giving Dylan a thoughtful look as he continued backing down the hall. Maybe the cracks in the spell affected more than just Marnie; he didn’t like Dylan much, and he never had, but that didn’t mean he was against breaking Dylan free of Perryn’s enchantments. If Dylan started to remember who he really was, maybe that would hurry Marnie’s memories along.

Maybe she’d come back to him.

They walked in silence from that point on, picking their way through the seemingly deserted halls of Kalabar’s house as they backtracked toward the exit. Several times, Luke was certain they’d lost their way, but Marnie continued to move with simple, calm confidence, convincing him more and more that part of her was starting to remember that this was her world. She moved like a Cromwell witch, destined and designed to shepherd Halloweentown through good times and bad. She moved like she was home.

Dylan wasn’t helping, but he wasn’t hindering them, either; that was probably all they could really ask for, considering the situation. Marnie, at least, got a polite introduction to Halloweentown, in the form of Luke showing up in her living room. Dylan got kidnapped and chained up in Kalabar’s basement. Not exactly the same thing.

So they’d be patient, and hopefully he’d snap out of his fugue state eventually.

_If I’m lucky,_ Luke thought, turning another corner and adjusting his grip on Gwen’s feet, _he’ll stay this calm until we can get him back to Agatha._

They turned a corner, and Luke’s shoulders hit something solid. “Marnie, I told you to say something if I was going...to...” He stopped, seeing the look of wide-eyed horror that had swept across her face. “There’s someone behind me, isn’t there?”

Marnie nodded mutely. Beside her, Dylan smiled and said, “That’s the best slavering dream-monster I’ve ever come up with! Is it going to eat someone now?”

Luke tilted his head slowly back, and found himself looking up at one of Kalabar’s werewolf servants. The werewolf was definitely looking back.

“So much for those secrecy charms,” Luke muttered. “Run!”

Marnie grabbed Dylan’s arm and hauled him along as she and Luke--still carrying Gwen unsteadily between them--turned and fled.

After a moment’s bemused staring, the werewolf dropped to all fours and pursued.

#

  
**79: The Obligatory Chase Scene.**

Running down the halls while carrying the feet of a woman who weighed more than he did struck Luke as being even less fun than going up the stairs had been. Marnie was leading, and she was having more trouble than he was; keeping Gwen’s head from bouncing around too much was causing her to stumble and slow down.

Only Dylan seemed unconcerned. He jogged lazily beside his sister, making no real effort to help, and occasionally cast glances back down the hall, saying things like, “Wow, he’s fast,” and “I think he’s gaining.” He didn’t sound particularly worried about it: he was providing updates, nothing more. The fact that he’d be just as dead as the rest of them if the werewolf caught them didn’t seem to be bothering him.

_Of course not,_ Luke thought sourly. _He thinks it’s just a dream._ As far as dream-logic was concerned, being eaten by a werewolf would just be mildly annoying, not actually dangerous.

“Dylan, can’t you be _useful_ for a change?” Luke demanded, trying to keep running. “Knock something over or something!”

“Why should I?” Dylan asked. “It’s obvious that the monster is a manifestation of my subconscious irritation with the fact that you and my sister have subverted my dreamscape. I should let you be eaten.”

“Dammit, Dylan!” Luke snapped. “This isn’t a dream!”

“Look, Dylan--assume it’s _not_ a dream. If Luke’s right, and you get eaten, it’ll hurt! But if he’s lying, you’ll wake up eventually anyway! Fight back and find out!” Marnie said, desperately.

Dylan frowned, and then sighed, looking put-upon. “Even in my dreams, you bully me,” he said, turning to shove the nearest suit of armor over into the werewolf’s path. Their flight was shortly accompanied by the sound of crashes and clangs.

The werewolf didn’t exactly know how to deal with that sort of chaos-based opposition. It wasn’t moving like a well-oiled killing machine; more like a lazy servant of an unchallenged master. That was a change, too, but one that made a certain kind of sense. If Kalabar had taken Halloweentown over without opposition from the Cromwells, there wouldn’t have been anything to fight against. Of course his security would be sloppy. There’d be no reason for it not to be.

They were getting close to the exit. Marnie squinted up the hall, then shouted, “Come on! We’re almost out!”

Luke didn’t know what she was planning to do once they made it outside, but making it that far would be a start, if nothing else. He closed his eyes, trusting the pressure on Gwen’s body to guide him, and just concentrated on running without dropping her.

_Luke, can you hear me?_ asked Marnie’s voice, inside his head.

That was unexpected. Luke’s eyes snapped open, his grip on Gwen slipping for a moment before he got it back and kept on running.

_Don’t say anything if you can hear me,_ the voice continued. _I feel so silly even trying this, but you said magic was just a matter of getting what I want, and I want this, so I hope you can hear me..._

_I can hear you, I can,_ he thought fervently, and wondered if she could hear him back.

_Anyway, whether you hear me or not: if we can make it outside, I’m going to want us all to disappear. So if it works, maybe we’ll be invisible. Dylan will probably freak out, but I have to try doing something. So don’t freak out, okay?_

_I won’t,_ Luke thought. _I trust you._ And then, before he could stop himself, he thought: _You’re coming back to me._

If Marnie heard him, she didn’t show it. They ran down the last stretch of hall, the werewolf gaining by the moment, and out the door onto the porch. Dylan sprinted ahead, easily outpacing Luke and his sister, who were still trying to hold Gwen up.

They ran down off the porch onto the grass, and disappeared.

The werewolf that had been chasing them bolted out into the night air, and stopped, looking bemusedly in all directions. They were gone; even their scent had vanished. If it hadn’t seen them leaving, carrying one of the prisoners, it might have believed that they had never been there at all.

Finally, confused, it turned and trotted back inside.

Kalabar would want to know.


	5. Exit Plans and Escape Clauses

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everything's got to end eventually. Happy Halloween.

**80: Shock.**

In Agatha’s crystal ball, the images of Dylan, Luke and Marnie--and the last two were carrying Gwen between them, her beloved Gwen, so long lost and mourned-for and gone--ran out of Kalabar’s house, heading for the forest. They ran down to the grass...

...and they were gone, leaving only footprints and silence behind them.

Agatha stared at the scene as the werewolf padded out and sniffed at the grass, and continued to stare as it turned and went back inside again. The children didn’t reappear. Gwen didn’t reappear.

Quietly, not looking away, the last of the Cromwell witches began to cry.

#

**81: Action, Reaction.**

“They _what_?!” Kalabar demanded, rising from his seat.

The werewolf in front of him crouched down, trying to look smaller. It wasn’t working well--and it wasn’t helped by the dismissive stares being directed its way by Perryn and Sophie. The looks of palpable disdain on the faces of the two women were very nearly identical, even taking into account the fact that they weren’t related. Something about that wasn’t right.

It also wasn’t his problem. He had bigger things to worry about.

“The witch and the goblin ran out carrying one of the prisoners,” it stammered. “The other prisoner--it ran out with them.”

“And then they ‘disappeared,’” said Kalabar flatly. “Why didn’t you track them?”

“No scent. No way to track,” the werewolf whined.

“Their _scent_ vanished?” said Kalabar. When the werewolf nodded, he scowled. “Not good enough. Find them! At once!”

“And if you fail,” Perryn added, “we’ll give you to our dear Sophie as a new pet. Won’t that be nice, Sophie?”

Sophie smiled. “I’ve always wanted a poodle.”

Still whining in terror, the werewolf turned and bolted from the room.

#

**82: Time Delay.**

On the lawn, patrols of werewolves came and went until just before dawn. Then they scattered into the wood, heading further and further away from the house as they searched for the fugitives.

Sunrise was visible only in a lightening of the storm. The clouds overhead blocked the sun itself from view, remaining a solid mask of gray. The day began, and brightened, moving steadily on toward the afternoon.

At the strike of noon, Marnie and the others reappeared, still running headlong for the forest.

“It didn’t work!” she shouted. “Keep running!”

Luke stared at the back of her head before he titled his eyes upward, looking at the suddenly lighter sky. “Marnie...”

“I was trying to make us disappear, but it didn’t work, and now the werewolf is _right behind us_!”

Dylan jogged to a lazy stop, asking, “When did it start being daytime?”

“ _Marnie_! Look at the sky!”

Still holding tightly to her mother’s head, Marnie looked up, and gaped. “It’s...what happened?”

“I think it worked,” said Luke. “I think you made us disappear until it was safe.”

Marnie glanced back to him. “You heard me? In your head?”

“I did.” _But you didn’t hear me. And I think I’m probably glad._

“It worked,” Marnie said again, before breaking into a slow grin. “I did magic.”

“Several times.” Luke glanced back over his shoulder, toward the house. “For right now, maybe we should get moving? We need to get back to Agatha’s house. Maybe she can wake your mom up.” _And keep us from getting eaten by werewolves._

“Agatha?” Dylan echoed blankly.

“Grandma,” said Marnie. “Come on!”

Dylan stared after Marnie, bemused, as she and Luke started for the wood, Gwen still carried between them. After a moment, he followed after them.

It was a good fifteen minutes before the first of the werewolf patrols returned, caught the scent, and sent up the alarm.

#

**83: Surprises.**

Walking through the forest with Dylan complaining constantly about stepping on roots and catching his clothes on branches was no fun whatsoever. When you added the fact that Gwen seemed to be getting heavier by the minute, well, it was no wonder Luke wasn’t very happy. If anything, it was sort of a wonder he hadn’t ditched them yet.

“Are we there yet?” asked Dylan.

“Are you sure you _want_ to keep having a brother?” asked Luke.

Marnie sighed. “Please don’t tempt me right now.” Her fingers were starting to go numb from the strain of keeping Gwen’s head from bouncing too much, and she was trying not to think about what her mother’s continued slumber might mean. They would take her to Grandma, and everything would be okay. Grandma would use witchcraft and fix it.

Witchcraft, which she, despite her own protests to the contrary, was starting to show some talent for using. She was a witch. Luke had been telling the truth about that much, at least; she was a witch, and she could work magic.

_If he was telling the truth about that,_ she thought uneasily, _what does that say about everything else?_ There was a chance that it was all true. The stories about her being a part of Halloweentown, _saving_ it...and being his...

His friend. Being his friend. He’d never said, not once, that she was anything more than that.

But there was the way he looked at her. They weren’t even the same _species_. Was that even allowed?

Taking a deep breath, Marnie said, “Come on, Luke, hurry up,” and started walking faster, leading them through the trees. Luke sighed, and kept pace.

Marnie led the way back to Agatha’s house, both because of her position at Gwen’s head, and because--now that she wasn’t thinking about it too hard--the route was clear and obvious in her head. When they reached the edge of the wood she forded on, calling, “Grandma! Grandma, we did it!”

“Grandma’s dead,” said Dylan, frowning after his sister. He was beginning to have serious doubts about this dream. For one thing, it didn’t seem like it was ever going to _end_. For another thing, while he supposed that his sisters turning out to be witches was nicely Freudian and made a lot of sense, he didn’t usually dream about his dead grandmother. Or goblins who looked at his big sister like she was a hero. It was weird, and not entirely in a good way.

“No, she’s not,” Marnie said.

They started across the lawn toward the house, and the back door swung open, revealing Agatha Cromwell, who simply stared. Marnie beamed at her.

“Hi, Grandma!” she called.

Seeing her seemingly unwounded grandchildren carrying her unconscious daughter across the lawn, Agatha did what came naturally.

She fainted.

#

**84: Oops.**

“Grandma!” Marnie shouted, shoving Gwen’s head toward Dylan. He took it automatically, and she took off running across the lawn to drop to her knees next to her grandmother, numb fingers fumbling at the older woman’s hair. “Grandma? Wake up!”

“Grandma’s dead,” Dylan repeated, eyes very wide and suspiciously bright, like he was on the verge of tears.

“Once you get an idea into your head, you don’t like to let it go, do you?” asked Luke. “Come on. Let’s get your mom inside.” The pair began walking toward the porch, Luke now mostly leading as he tugged on Gwen’s feet.

In the grass, Agatha opened her eyes, and smiled, reaching up to put a hand on Marnie’s cheek. “Are you a ghost?” she asked, earnestly. “I like ghosts. But I think I’d rather have a living granddaughter, if it’s all the same to you.”

Marnie grinned. “It’s me, Grandma, it’s really me. We found Mom and Dylan.”

“But I saw you disappear...” Agatha pushed herself upright, watching as the boys carried Gwen up and onto the porch. “I was watching in my crystal, and I saw you disappear.”

“Oh. That was me.”

“That was Marnie,” Luke confirmed, putting Gwen’s feet down on the swinging loveseat. “Dylan, be careful with her head.”

“This is all just a dream,” said Dylan.

“Yeah, well, don’t dream about dropping your mom, okay?” Luke straightened, planting his hands in the small of his back, and stretched. “Okay, ow. And also, ow. And as a side note -- ow. Marnie, next time you need to steal your mother back from an evil warlock, we’re bringing a crane, okay?”

“Okay,” Marnie said, with another, slightly brighter grin. “Dylan, you’re not dreaming. Come say hello to Grandma.”

“You did it? Marnie, you made the whole lot of you disappear?” Agatha stared at her granddaughter, wonderingly. “But darling, that’s real magic! No one that wasn’t--”

“No one that wasn’t a Cromwell witch could’ve managed it. Yeah, I know,” said Marnie, almost shyly.

“Oh, _Marnie_ ,” Aggie said, putting her arms around her oldest granddaughter and holding her briefly tight. “I’m so proud of you.” Letting go, she rose, and turned toward the porch. “And this must be Dylan. My, you’ve grown since I last saw you...”

“You’re just a figment of my subconscious mind,” Dylan informed her.

“This isn’t just the spell. He’s always been a freak,” said Luke, stepping down from the porch. “But Kalabar’s messed him up pretty bad.”

“Yes, I can see that, Luke,” said Agatha, frowning. “That man has hurt my family too much for me to stand for it. Dylan, come here.” She held her hands out toward her grandson. “I don’t bite. I just want to look at you.”

Dylan started toward her, slowly. “I don’t know why I’m having this dream. I just want to wake up.”

“Oh, darling,” Aggie said, putting her hands over his. “This truly isn’t a dream. This is the real world.”

“Real?” asked Dylan, blankly.

“Yes, Dylan. Real,” Agatha said. “Welcome home.”

#

**85: Fairy Magic 101.**

“So this isn’t a dream,” Dylan said, somewhat numbly.

“No, dear, it’s not,” Agatha replied, waving the sage smudge in front of Gwen’s face. The younger woman wrinkled her nose but didn’t wake. “You’re really a warlock, your sister is really heir to the Cromwell witches, and your mother has really been put to sleep by a fairy godmother gone astray. Pass the asphodel, won’t you?”

Marnie picked up a jar of small white flowers, passing it to her grandmother. “Sorry about all of this, Dylan. It was a real surprise to me, too.”

“If this isn’t a dream, then what’s _he_ doing here?” Dylan asked, jabbing a finger toward Luke.

Luke scowled at him. “At the moment? Getting insulted for no good reason.”

“Luke’s a...friend of the family,” Marnie said. “He’s the one that came to find me when he first realized that something was wrong.”

“So if all this is real--and I’m not saying that it is--he’s the one we have to blame for it?”

Luke’s scowl deepened, and he said, “I don’t have to stand here and put up with this,” before he turned and strode into the kitchen.

“That was quite uncalled for, Dylan,” said Agatha, sharply. “Luke has done nothing but help this family since this trouble began. I’ll thank you to be polite to him.”

“Why do I have to be polite if it’s his fault we’re _here_?”

Marnie stared at him, unable to believe what he was saying. “ _Dylan_.” But at the same time, a small, traitorous voice at the back of her mind was saying _Why shouldn’t he say that? You were thinking the same thing when you first got here._

_Yes,_ she told herself firmly, _but I’ve changed._

Had she? Really?

“What?” asked Dylan.

Agatha sighed. “Oh, Dylan. I’m so sorry this has been done to you. We’re going to get you back to your home and your world, really we are. But first, we need to wake your mother and -- wait. Marnie, where’s Sophie? Couldn’t you find her?”

“Sophie went off with the warlock man,” Dylan said sourly. “Figures. Even in a dream, she wants to play witches.”

“She what?” Agatha asked, eyes going wide. “Oh, no. Kalabar’s taken her?”

“She went on her own. He said Marnie had sold us out because she wanted to be special. That she was just going to let us rot. And he offered her power.” Dylan frowned, slowly. “He said Sophie could stay with him forever, and his fairy godmother would let me and Mom go.”

Marnie stared at him. “Why didn’t you _stop_ her?”

“She wasn’t listening.” Dylan shrugged. “Besides, why should I? This is just a stupid dream.”

“If it’s just a dream, why didn’t you go with him?” Agatha asked, quietly.

He looked at her and sighed, replying, “Because even in a dream, I don’t think going with people who chain your mom to a wall and then laugh because she won’t wake up is a good idea. It seems sort of tacky.”

“There’s hope for you yet,” Marnie said lightly. “Grandma, is the asphodel working?”

“That depends on what you mean by ‘working,’” Agatha said, with a sigh. “I think she’s having more pleasant dreams now, if she’s dreaming at all. I need to look in my book of spells for another answer. This isn’t going to wake her up.”

“Why do adults react so badly to fairy magic?” Marnie asked.

“Well, dear, mostly, it’s a matter of getting settled into the world.”

Dylan frowned. “What?”

“When you’re young, the world is _filled_ with possibilities. No matter how ridiculous an idea might seem, there’s still the chance that it might work. You’re the first one to do everything, and no one’s ever thought of the things you think of, and you’re going to live forever, and you’re always going to be young and strong and beautiful.” Agatha brushed Gwen’s hair back from her forehead with gentle tenderness, and sighed. “But you get older, and all that fades away. You realize that even magic has its limits, and you stop believing that you’ll always win just because you’re on the side of good. You stop imagining the world as it could be. You settle into living with the world that is.”

“And that makes fairy magic hurt you more?” Marnie said.

“Oh, yes, dear. Because fairy magic is all about possibility -- about making the impossible very, very real. So adults don’t handle it as well, because they don’t want to believe that they don’t really understand the world.”

“But why is Mom affected so badly when you’re fine?” Dylan asked. “You said the spell got you too.”

“It wasn’t the initial spell that knocked her out, Dylan; that changed the whole world. It was whatever enchantment Perryn used to bring you here. Humans aren’t meant to travel in the fairy way.”

“If we break the spell that changed the world, will she wake up?” asked Marnie, slowly.

“She may.” Agatha looked at her, expression grave. “But in order to do that, you’ll have to accept that Luke knows the way the world is meant to be.” _Please, Marnie,_ she thought. _Accept it. Believe. Stay here, so we can be a family again._

“I can’t believe this,” said Dylan, standing, hands balled into fists at his sides. “I _won’t_ believe this! Marnie, you’re not a witch! Grandma, you’re dead! This is just a stupid dream!”

Marnie sighed. “Dylan--”

“No!” He stormed out the front door, slamming it behind him.

Agatha and Marnie exchanged a look.

“You take Dylan, I’ll take Luke?” said Marnie, weakly.

“It’s a deal,” Aggie replied, and rose, following her grandson out into the yard.

#

**86: Learning Curve.**

“Luke?”

“Over here.” He was seated on the kitchen floor, back against the counter, staring up into the rafters.

Marnie walked over and sat down beside him, asking, “Do I usually spend this much time chasing after you?”

“No--normally it’s the other way around.” Luke cracked a faint smile. “How long before Dylan has me exorcised, or decides to become a goblin slayer or something?”

“He’s saying it’s all a dream again,” Marnie said, shaking her head. “It’s really annoying. Grandma’s gone to deal with him.”

“Hope she can get through to him.”

“So do I.” They sat quietly for several minutes before Marnie said, hesitantly, “Luke?”

“Yeah?”

Marnie took a deep breath. It was hard to find the words she wanted, suddenly, like they didn’t want to obey. Like saying them would be the final step to making this real, and she wanted to go home, she wanted a normal life, she wanted...

_Witchcraft and broomstick rides and the sky over Halloweentown; time travel and jack-o-lanterns and magic and madness. Hadn’t she fought for the right to choose?_

With a small, strangled squeak, Marnie pressed the heel of one hand against her temple, squeezing her eyes closed. Her head was swimming with thoughts that she couldn’t even be certain belonged to her. “Can’t _think_ ,” she muttered.

Then a hand was on her forehead, brushing her hair back, gently, careful in its movement. “I’ll wait,” Luke said.

Marnie opened her eyes, turning to face him, and said, “I believe you.” She paused, before she added, quietly, “About everything. I believe that I’m a witch, and my mother’s a witch, and Kalabar and Perryn are bad people, and I’m still scared, Luke, and I don’t know whether I want to stay here or go back to who you say I used to be, but I believe you.”

Luke was staring at her now, eyes wide as he pulled his hand slowly away from her face.

Swallowing hard, Marnie said, “I just wanted you to know.”

#

**87: Little Lambs Are Lovely.**

The werewolves were beginning to become uneasy about their alliance with Kalabar.

It had seemed like such a good idea at first--work as enforcers for the most powerful man in Halloweentown, do his bidding, and be placed high in his echelon. (But when did he _become_ the most powerful man in Halloweentown? None of them could remember, not even the eldest; the longer they were with him, the more their minds seemed to slip away, leaving them mindless and unable to argue with his commands...)

But now there were Cromwell witches back in the world. Not just dry old Agatha Cromwell, hiding in her house, mourning her family and almost used up; no, these were fresh new witches, brimming with power, running across the landscape like rabbits. Rabbits with teeth and claws hidden underneath their soft white fur. It was enough to make the pack worry about what was coming next. After all, Kalabar had sworn that the Cromwell line was drawing close to finished--that they wouldn’t be able to stand between him and what he wanted. He’d been wrong about that.

What else was Kalabar wrong about?

He had a Cromwell on his side as well, the youngest of their pack, a little one who stank of confusion and enchantment. He’d twisted her mind somehow, turning her against her family, and the werewolves didn’t like that either. They understood the Cromwell witches on that level, at least: witches, like werewolves, were pack creatures. And where one member of the pack went, others would inevitably follow.

The elder Cromwells wouldn’t be happy that Kalabar had stolen their cub, oh no, oh no. They wouldn’t be happy at all. They would come and they would smash whatever stood between them and her, because that was the way when a cub was stolen.

There were two choices. The werewolves could make sure they were gone when the Cromwells arrived...

Or they could keep their comfortable post, and make sure that the cub was the one that disappeared. Gathering together in the shadows of Kalabar’s home, the werewolves began to plan.

#

**88: Gateways.**

Dylan had stopped at the edge of the yard, staring at the high iron gate that separated the Cromwell house from the road. It was more of an ornamental gate than anything else; after all, one could easily go through the forest or fly in on a broom. But still, the message it sent to people passing by was a good one: this is a private space, the gate said. Come here if you have business, if you have need, if you are welcome, but otherwise, stay away.

Agatha walked up behind him, her velvet skirt rustling against the grass. She simply watching him for a moment before saying, quietly, “I have a wish, too, Dylan. I wish you could remember what this land looked like before Kalabar came here.”

“What?” he said, turning to face her, and frowning. “What are you talking about?”

“This place, this land--Halloweentown. It was your mother’s home once, before you were born, but you’ve never seen it like it really is.”

“It’s a horrible place. I hate it.”

“Oh, no, Dylan, no,” Agatha said, shaking her head. “Halloweentown is...well, it’s a magical place. It conforms to what the people who live here need. Once, it was the comforting sort of scary. Cobwebs and black cats and haunted houses, yes, but all in good fun, all the cheerful, approachable sort that children enjoy, and that we could live with without becoming the monsters the mortal world tried to turn us into.” She sighed. “But all that changed when Kalabar took over. It turned dark, and it became twisted from what it was meant to be. Slowly at first, so that we couldn’t see it coming--and I was too distracted with mourning for my family to really see it start--and then faster, until our whole world had changed so much that it seemed like we would never get it back again.”

“Did you?” Dylan asked, interested despite himself.

“Did we what, dear?”

“Get your world back.”

Agatha shook her head. “No. Not yet, anyway. And even if we could somehow heal Halloweentown, make it as beautiful as it was always meant to be...there’s a good chance my world would still be gone.”

“Why?”

“Because, dear, my world was never only Halloweentown.” Agatha reached out to touch his hair, very gently. “I’m a Cromwell witch, the last of my line, a line that’s lasted for centuries without end, and for us, family has always been the real measure of your life and what it’s worth. Only family. I had one daughter, your mother, Gwen. And when she left me to live in the mortal world, I cried, but eventually--given time--I stopped crying, because she gave me three wonderful grandchildren to love and cherish. She gave me you, Dylan. And then I lost you. I lost the years I should have had with you, when I could have taught you about my world as it’s supposed to be, the beauty and the wildness and the magic of it all.

“We could save Halloweentown--we _will_ save Halloweentown--but unless we break this spell and turn our past back into what it was meant to be, I’ll never get my world back, not really. Because I’ll never have you.”

Dylan looked at her, eyes wide behind the frames of his glasses. Then, without saying a word, he stepped over, put his arms around his grandmother, and held her.

Agatha smiled, blinking back tears. “Maybe there’s hope for this broken little family yet. Now come on, dear--let’s get you inside.

“I think it looks like rain.”

#

**89: Rain.**

Gwen was still asleep, trapped under Perryn’s spell; Dylan had joined her on the couch, falling into a more natural slumber, exhausted by the events of the day. Agatha rose, putting her herbs aside, and moved to the front door, checking the lock once more.

“This is pure foolishness, Agatha Cromwell,” she said to herself, softly. “When they come, they’ll come.”

Kalabar would come for her before too much longer: she was sure of that. The clouds overhead weren’t even shifting anymore, and when she truly allowed herself to think about it, she had to admit that she was no longer certain the sun existed. Halloweentown was a magically created world, after all, and Perryn’s spell had changed its very foundations, using the power of three Cromwells to twist their world away from what it was designed to be. Now Gwen was unconscious, Sophie was firmly in Kalabar’s power, and Dylan was deep in his own denial. Only Agatha herself still believed in their world the way it was meant to be--Agatha, and maybe Marnie. She’d seen flashes of the girl Luke said he cared for.

_Hurry, Luke,_ she thought, resting her head against the door. _If you want to save her, hurry._

The wish had almost reached the height of its power, almost finishing with the recreation of all of Halloweentown in Kalabar’s twisted image. She could see it working even around the edges of her home, making the masonry weaker and wood slightly twisted, like it hadn’t been cared for in years. When the wish fully took control, not even having her family here around her would keep her powers from fading, reacting to mourning that she’d never truly done.

It was possible the rest of her family would fade along with her powers, still here, but somehow impossible to see or speak to. According to the terms of the wish, they were dead, after all.

And it would only take a death to seal the deal forever. One little death...Kalabar had shown that he didn’t mind killing to get what he wanted.

Kill Luke. Kill Agatha herself. And the spell could never be broken, could never be unmade, because the world it had been cast in wouldn’t be possible anymore. “He’s so close to taking it all,” she whispered. “So close. Oh, Marnie...don’t let him win. Luke says you saved us once before. Please, darling. Please.

“Be strong for just a little longer, if you can.”

Outside, the clouds rumbled with the sound of distant thunder, and it started raining once again.

#

**90: Better Lies.**

Sophie perched on the edge of Kalabar’s desk, hands cupped together, a ball of marble floating roughly eight inches above them, held up by the strength of her magic. She’d been first surprised and then delighted to realize how quickly magic was becoming second nature to her--she was learning fast.

A little too fast for Kalabar’s tastes. He stood in the doorway watching her, and frowned. He wanted to keep Sophie, he truly did: the Cromwell witches had humiliated and nearly destroyed him, but more than that, they were powerful when they were used the way that they were meant to be used. As tools. _His_ tools, to command and control and throw aside when he was done.

The ball wobbled and then dropped into Sophie’s cupped hands. She frowned at it.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself, my dear,” Kalabar said, stepping into view, cane twirling jauntily in his hand. “Why, your mother was twice your age before she could do a thing like that.” Just one more lie on top of all the rest. “That’s probably why she tried to deny your magical heritage. One of the reasons, anyway.”

Sophie looked up, nose scrunched slightly as she considered this. “She was jealous?”

“Who wouldn’t be? A witch of your power comes along...why, once a generation at the most. Your sister must have burned up inside looking at you.”

“Marnie always was mean to me,” Sophie said with a frown, looking down at the ball in her hands. Something about that statement didn’t seem right; something that she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

This was wrong. But the magic--oh, the magic. She wanted it so badly. Every atom in her body sang with the need for it.

How could anything so wonderful be wrong?

“You know she’s trying to get rid of you even now,” Kalabar said, half-dismissively.

Sophie’s head snapped up. “What?”

“That green boy she had with her--the goblin? He’s a golem. She made him from worms and caterpillars, to confuse my spells. If she can get him in here again, well...” Kalabar shook his head. “I don’t know if I can stop her, Sophie.”

“But without the golem, she can’t hurt us, right?”

“Well, I suppose that’s true,” he said slowly.

“And it’s not really killing if he’s not really a person...”

Kalabar allowed a slow, satisfied smile to spread across his face. “Why no,” he said. “No, it’s really not killing at all.”

#

**91: Not A Bang, But A Whimper.**

“Grandma? How is she?”

“Not good, my dear,” said Agatha, wiping her tears from her cheeks before she turned away from the door to face Luke and Marnie. “Not good at all. Come here. Both of you. Please.”

They walked over, and she gathered them into a tight hug, looking past Luke’s shoulder to where Dylan and Gwen still slumbered on the couch. “Oh, my darlings,” she said. “I remember living so long without you, and I’m afraid it’s going to happen again...”

“Grandma, what do you mean?” asked Marnie, pulling away.

“Look around you, Marnie,” Agatha said. “The spell is winning. You’re here, but that’s not enough to stop the wish from rewriting reality. Soon, I’ll forget you. We all will.”

“Not all of us,” said Luke gruffly.

“No. Not all of us.” Agatha looked between them, voice grave. “The wish will finish spreading outward, and then it will become final, and Kalabar will have one of us killed to keep it from ever being broken. Once that happens, Halloweentown will be lost forever. My world, my family--you, Marnie, everything you should have had--will be gone. I’m sorry. But unless you find the loophole, unless you break the spell, it’s over. There’s no point in fighting. I can’t even wake your mother. My power is fading, and soon I’ll just be mourning you again, and not remembering you were ever here.”

Marnie stared at her grandmother for a moment, eyes very wide, before she turned and bolted for the door. Agatha watched her go, not saying a word.

Luke stared after her, then turned on Agatha, demanding, “How could you say that to her?”

“I had to. It was true.”

“If it’s true and I’m the only one that’s going to remember, why did you have to _say_ it? She didn’t have to know! You didn’t have to hurt her like that!” _If it’s true, then I’m going to lose her. No matter what I do, I’m going to lose her. A world with no Marnie in it, no Marnie at all, ever again..._

The idea was almost more than he could bear.

“Luke...”

“Don’t talk to me.” Luke took a step backward, then turned and ran after Marnie, out into the rain. It seemed like he was always running after Marnie anymore.

Agatha listened to the door slamming shut behind him and closed her eyes, tilting her face up toward the ceiling.

_Please,_ she thought. _Please, let this work. I don’t know what else to do._

_Please._

#

**92: The End of the World as We Know It.**

“Marnie! You have to come back inside with me! Please.”

“No, Luke! Don’t! Just don’t! Leave me alone.” She was speaking so fast that her words were running together, blurring until it sounded like she was saying “don’t leave me alone” instead of telling him to leave.

Luke just hoped what he was hearing was what she actually wanted to say, and couldn’t, because of her scrambled memories, because of that damn spell. If it wasn’t, if she truly wanted to go...

He was running out of options. He’d have to let her.

“Marnie, it’s pouring out here.” The rain was coming down in sheets, blocking out all light from above and turning the yard into a swamp. It was only thanks to the dim light shining through the windows of the house that he could see Marnie at all, and if she went much further from the porch, even that would be gone. “Please, just come back inside before you catch a cold.”

“Come back inside and do what, Luke?” She turned to face him, flailing her arms in a helpless, angry gesture. “Wait to fade away completely? Wait to see if anyone remembers we’re here so that we can get home? I don’t want to die here, Luke. And I don’t want to leave.”

“What?” He started walking slowly toward her, aware that he was moving like he was trying not to startle a wild thing. In a way, that was exactly what he was doing.

“I don’t...I don’t want to go.” Marnie sounded more miserable than he’d ever known her to be, utterly overwhelmed by what was going on around her. It wasn’t right. Marnie--his Marnie--was a lot of things, but she was never helpless. “I don’t want to forget again. I don’t want to go back to just walking through life and not knowing something’s missing. I don’t want to leave, Luke, and I don’t want you to forget me.”

“I won’t forget you. I’m the only one that never can,” he said, coming to a stop just in front of her. Her hair was hanging in her face, pulled straight and heavy by the rain; he pushed it aside without thinking, leaving his fingers resting against the curve of her cheek. “Remember? I’m your loophole. I can’t forget you, because the spell can’t touch me.”

Marnie sniffled. With the rain falling everywhere, he couldn’t tell whether she was crying or not, but he wouldn’t bet against it. He was crying, after all. “Really?”

“Really. Even if I wanted to forget you, I couldn’t do it.” And he _didn’t_ want to forget her. If there was anything he’d been sure of since the day that Kalabar said he could make him human if he just did as he was told, it was that he didn’t want to forget Marnie.

Marnie, who taught him about taking crazy risks and working for good over evil, just because it was the right thing to do. Marnie, who laughed when he was scared and said she’d always be there to catch him when he needed her. Marnie, who made all things possible, just by being a part of the world.

Without her, would _anything_ be possible? Anything at all? He wasn’t sure.

He just knew that he wasn’t willing to forget her.

“I’m scared, Luke. I’m so scared. How can we stop this? I don’t want to go away.”

“We can break the spell. Save your sister. Wake your mother. Restore Halloweentown to the way that it’s supposed to be.” She should have been the one saying those words, not him. She was the one who led the grand crusades and fixed things; he was just the one that followed her and was glad to have the privilege. When he wasn’t screaming and convinced that he was about to die, that was.

But she’d forgotten herself, and this time, he had to be the one who convinced her to follow him over the edge and into whatever madness would save the day. He just had to hope that she’d follow him the way he’d always followed her, or he didn’t know what else he could do.

“How am I supposed to break this spell? I can’t do anything. I can’t save a world. I can’t even save myself. Much less my family and everybody else.”

“You have to hold on, Marnie,” he said. “It’s not over yet. It’s not over until we’ve lost, and we haven’t lost. Not while you remember who you are. And not while I remember you.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“If all the creatures in Halloweentown can’t stop Kalabar, how can I? Even if I _was_ a Cromwell witch before all of this...before...I’m not anymore. I don’t have any special powers or...or anything.”

Luke paused, his hand still resting against her cheek. “You said ‘creatures’.”

“What?”

“You said ‘creatures’. Not monsters; ‘creatures.’ Marnie, part of you knows you can do this. That you _have_ to do this, because part of you, even when you don’t remember...part of you belongs here, and it always will. You’re a Cromwell witch, Marnie Piper. Kalabar can’t take that away from you.”

“I can’t. I’m just a normal girl. There’s nothing I can do.”

“Oh, Marnie, Marnie, you’re wrong. I’m sorry, but you’re wrong...” Luke said. He slicked her hair back, ignoring the way the rain was pounding down on both of them, and said softly, “You’re _not_ just a normal girl. You’re not.”

“So what am I?” she asked.

“You’re my Marnie,” he said, and leaned in, and kissed her.

#

**Interlude: Breaking Wishes, Part I.**

The purple glow of the crystal faltered, dimming as a thick crack lanced its way down the side of the spire. The light returned, but it wasn’t as strong as it had been before; it was flawed now, robbed of its perfection. It was cause for alarm, and for recasting the spell that depended on the light, before everything came tumbling down.

Or it would have been, had anyone been aware of the change. But there was no one there to see, and in Kalabar’s mansion, preparations to hunt down and destroy the Cromwells continued without pause.

In Agatha Cromwell’s house, her daughter Gwen sighed in her sleep, and was still.

#

**93: Aftershocks.**

Marnie jerked backward, eyes very wide as she pulled away from Luke. He stared at her and let his hand fall to his side, cheeks slowly turning a dark gray-green with embarrassment.

“Marnie, I’m so sorry, I don’t know what...” But he did know, really. He knew that he had needed to kiss her, even if it was only just once, before she went away forever.

He knew he’d needed to try.

“Be quiet,” she moaned, clapping her hands over her ears. Her head was suddenly full of voices, all talking at once, demanding her attention. _No, mother, they’ll grow up here...chicken keeps best on the bone...no Halloween parties no witchcraft no ghost stories grow up normal grow up human grow up to be just like Daddy, because human is better, that’s what Mama chose...I made a song...somebody’s coming...only once a year...only once a year...the door opens, but it only opens once a year..._

Inside her mind, a door opened--not a once-a-year door, but a door for every day, a door for always--and she understood. Not everything, but enough; enough to begin finding her way through the dark. She was a witch. She belonged here, in Halloweentown. He was right about that, and more.

She was a Cromwell witch; she was Marnie, daughter of Gwen, daughter of Agatha, the latest heir of a line that went all the way back to the days of Merlin himself. She was the savior of Halloweentown three times over, and she was better than the crying, simpering creature that Kalabar had tried so hard to force her to become. She was. She always had been.

She was a Cromwell.

She was Marnie Piper.

She was on her way back home.

“Marnie?”

“I call on the powers of creature and mortal,” she whispered, her whole body shaking, her hands still clasped over her ears.

Barely able to believe what he was hearing, Luke repeated, “Marnie?” That didn’t seem like enough, and so he added, “Marnie, is that you?”

“I call on the powers of creature and mortal,” she whispered again, more firmly this time. Lowering her hands, she raised her head and looked at him. “To hear the wish that I implore. Though summer is high, now you must grant a portal; do as I ask you, and open the door. Luke. Luke, what did you _do_?”

“I...I kissed you. That’s all. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean...”

“Luke.” She looked helpless and small--but hopeful at the same time, like someone had lit a candle behind her eyes. Her smile, when it came, was very slight, and that didn’t matter, because it was brilliant all the same: a jack-o-lantern smile, filled with the hope that the light would see them through to the morning. She was coming back to him. “Kiss me again?”

And so he did.

#

**94: Kiss and Tell.**

Agatha twitched the curtains aside, squinting through the darkness and the rain to see two small figures with their arms around one another, holding on so tightly that unless she’d known it was a pair, she’d have thought them to be only one. One person standing lonely in the rain...or not so lonely, all things considered.

 _Finally, Luke,_ she thought to herself, already starting to grin, giggles bubbling up in her throat. _You finally chased hard enough to catch up with her._

She let the curtain fall back into place and sat down in her chair, laughing until the tears rolled down her cheeks and Dylan jerked himself awake, staring frantically around the room while he tried to get his bearings back.

“Where am I?” he demanded.

“Oh, don’t worry, darling,” she said, waving a hand. “You’ll know where you are soon enough. It’s home. That’s all.

“You’re home.”

#

**95: Tell Me Who I Am.**

The second kiss lasted longer. Much longer.

Luke wasn’t entirely sure how he’d wound up with his arms around her, or when they’d come to be standing so very close; he could feel her breathing, and every beat of her heart was like the pounding of a drum, resonating through her skin and into his. It was raining, but that wasn’t the only reason that her cheeks were wet. He could taste her tears, bitter and salty on their lips. At least now he knew for sure that she was crying, even if he didn’t know how long they’d been standing that way. He never wanted the moment to end.

When she finally pulled away he released her only reluctantly, studying her face, looking for a sign. She didn’t look any different. She was still wet, still bedraggled, still Marnie. She’d been Marnie all along.

And then she smiled, and the little candle he’d seen before had somehow become the bonfire behind that jack-o-lantern grin, and he knew that Marnie--his Marnie, the _real_ Marnie--was home.

“Hi,” he whispered, and grinned at her. He couldn’t help it. Not all the magic in the entire world could have made him hold back that grin.

“Hi,” she whispered back, reaching up to push his wet, matted hair away from his face. This time, she was the one who left her fingers against his cheek, and he was the one who couldn’t pull away. “Miss me?”

Luke had known that not all the tears were Marnie’s, but it wasn’t until he felt her fingers on his cheek that he realized that he couldn’t seem to make his own tears stop. He hadn’t really allowed himself to be afraid before, but now--she was home. She was really and truly home, and that meant he could admit that he hadn’t been sure she’d ever make it back to him at all. “You have no idea.”

“I have some,” she said, and leaned in to kiss him again--quick and glancing this time, there and gone between one breath and the next.

“What...” He swallowed. “What was that for?”

“Not slapping me. I deserved it. I was a spoiled, vicious little brat without my memory.”

“It was the spell. I knew it was the spell.”

Marnie thought back on the Halloween night when she and her siblings had first followed her grandmother to Halloweentown; the memory seemed incredibly fresh now that it had been restored to her, shining and new, like it had happened only the day before. She winced, shaking her head.

“Not entirely the spell,” she said. “Without witchcraft, that’s what I would have been.”

“I guess I’m lucky you had your witchcraft,” Luke said, letting his face rest against her hand.

“I guess you are,” Marnie agreed. “Luke. Am I dreaming? Will I still remember when you let me go?”

“I haven’t let you go yet. Why would I start now?” Luke asked. Then he flinched. _Stupid. She’s just remembered. Don’t go getting all sappy on her. You know she doesn’t want it._

“Luke?” Marnie frowned. “Why do you look like that all of a sudden?”

“I just...I’m sorry. It’s always a kiss that breaks the spell, isn’t it? It’s traditional. I had to try it to be sure that it wasn’t the answer. I’d feel stupid if we didn’t at least cover the bases.” Luke ducked away from her hand, starting back toward the house. “Come on, Marnie. We have to tell your grandmother that you remember!”

She watched him run back into the safety of the light that shone from the house windows. When he reached the porch he turned back and waved to her, beckoning her on. “Come on!”

_Was that really all it was?_ she thought. _He kissed me just to break the spell?_ No other reason than that? But he hadn’t looked like he expected the spell to break; he’d just looked like a boy who wanted to be kissing a girl.

For a moment, before the world went fuzzy with the rush of memory returning, he’d looked almost like he loved her.

“Coming,” she said, pushing her hair back, and followed him into the light.

#

**96: Into the Light.**

“Grandma?” Marnie ducked her head as she stepped through the front door, suddenly assaulted with the memory of her first trip through that door, back when she was a stowaway exploring a world she had no business being a part of. The memory of her last trip to her grandmother’s kitchen came close behind it: the day she asked Luke to be her date to prom. That seemed like such a long time ago. It was no time ago at all.

Amnesia, Marnie decided, was even less fun when you were recovering from it. She reeled, catching herself against the doorframe, only to find herself steadied as Luke moved to stand behind her, pressing one hand against the damp fabric of her shirt. That made her smile slightly, despite her confusion. Luke was always there to support her when she needed him. If she’d learned anything from this experience, it was that.

Agatha turned to face her granddaughter, hope and trepidation warring for dominance of her expression. In the end, hope won. “Marnie?” she replied.

“Oh, _Grandma_!” Pulling herself away from Luke’s stabilizing hand, Marnie threw herself at her grandmother and flung her arms around her, heedless of the way she was soaking them both. After a moment’s startled pause, Agatha put her arms around Marnie, squeezing back. “Grandma, I remember!”

“You...remember?” asked Agatha, voice cracking.

“I remember everything.” Marnie pushed herself out to arm’s-length, eyes solemn behind the tangled, sodden clumps of her hair. “You’ve been teaching me to be your successor, Grandma, so that one day, I can take over as head of the Cromwell witches. You’ve been training me for years. Mom didn’t want you to, but we convinced her, because I love Halloweentown. It’s my home. It’s where I want to be--it’s where I was always _meant_ to be. I remember it all, and I’m not afraid anymore, Grandma. I’m not afraid at all.”

Behind her, Luke smiled, and turned his face away. That was his Marnie, all right; the real Marnie, full of fire and love for her chosen homeland. She was his best friend. And that was just going to have to be enough.

Agatha raised one hand to touch her granddaughter’s face, tears pooling in the bottoms of her eyes. “Oh, Marnie,” she whispered. “You remember. I don’t remember teaching you, but Luke, and now you...I truly believe that you’re remembering the real world, and not this travesty. This was never meant to be this way. This world isn’t supposed to exist.”

Marnie nodded, mouth firming down to a thin, hard line. “That’s why we’re going to fix it. We’re going to get the real world back, Grandma, just the way it was when we lost it.

“We’re going to save Halloweentown.”

#

**97: Family Reunion.**

Sophie Piper had a plan.

That sounded almost like a song inside her head, and she smiled a small, secretive smile, playing it over and over again in a jaunty little rhythm: _Sophie Piper had a plan, yes, a plan indeed; she’d go and find the golem-man, and then she’d make him bleed!_

It wasn’t the best song she’d ever made, but it would do nicely, oh, yes, it would do nicely. She paused for a moment, frowning slightly. She’d made a lot of songs; she knew that. There were some places where she wasn’t entirely clear on what she did and didn’t know, but she knew she’d made a lot of songs. She just couldn’t...remember any of them just now. Not except for the newest one. And that wasn’t right. She’d always had an excellent memory.

So why couldn’t she remember her songs?

Sophie hesitated, worrying her lower lip between her teeth as she tried to work her way around the problem. She had a good memory; she made songs; she liked the songs she made; so why couldn’t she remember them? More than ever, she had the feeling that something was wrong.

A werewolf howled in the distance. Her head snapped up, lip slipping out from between her teeth as the brushed the troublesome questions away. She didn’t remember the songs right now, but she’d remember them again, soon enough. For right now...

For right now, her wicked, wicked sister was hiding behind a golem made from icky, squirmy things, and until the golem was destroyed, she couldn’t be banished from Halloweentown, and Sophie couldn’t be sure that she’d be able to stay.

“Sorry, Marnie,” she said mildly, and resumed her walk. “I just can’t let you take this away from me.”

The rain was sheeting down all around her, but Sophie barely noticed. Keeping it off had been a matter of casting a very simple shielding spell, one designed to stop rain and dull wind without preventing her from breathing. Just a few syllables difference and she could use that same spell to suffocate an enemy, or to keep herself warm while she swam in cold water. Magic was just wonderful that way. It was the most wonderful thing she’d ever encountered, and she was going to keep it.

Of course, her shielding spell didn’t prevent the rain from falling on the trees around her, and their waterlogged branches kept getting in her way, forcing her to brush them aside. It would be easy to just blast a clear path through the woods, so that she could reach Agatha’s house without all these stupid impairments. Kalabar would even approve, as long as she destroyed that nasty golem. But somehow, she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It was like she cared about the stupid old woods. There was no good reason for it, but she did.

Well. There’s no rule that says life needs to make sense, and she was almost there, anyway. She could see the lights of her so-called grandmother’s house shining through the trees, dim but unwavering. She’d be there soon, and then? Then she could get down to the real business of the evening. There was only room for one Cromwell witch in Halloweentown.

It was going to be her.

#

**98: Broken Doorways.**

Once things began to happen, they happened very fast.

Marnie had her hands on Agatha’s shoulders, smiling warmly into her grandmother’s face--how could she have forgotten it? Even for a moment? She knew that face almost as well as she knew her own--while Dylan watched, puzzled to the point of silence, from the couch, where Gwen was still sleeping soundly. Luke hung back near the door, giving Marnie and Aggie the space they needed for their reunion. He had his Marnie back. He could be patient.

“How do you propose we do that?” Aggie asked. A bit of the twinkle was starting to come back into her eyes; she was beginning to believe that they really _could_ save Halloweentown, now that they were a family again. Still a small, broken family, it was true, but a family all the same, and where there’s family, there’s hope.

“We have to start by finding Sophie,” said Marnie firmly. “We don’t know _what_ Kalabar may be doing to her by now.”

“Oh, no,” moaned Dylan. “Now _you’re_ crazy, _too_.”

“I’m not crazy, Dylan,” said Marnie. “I’m finally sane.”

“Maybe Sophie’s got the right idea, hanging out with the evil warlock kidnapper guy,” Dylan said, covering his eyes with his hands. “At least _his_ crazy probably isn’t contagious.”

“Regardless of whether we’re all crazy, dear, we need to find your sister,” said Aggie, growing solemn. “There’s no telling what Kalabar is doing to her m--”

The sound of the door being blown off its hinges was almost impossibly loud within the confines of the small living room. Marnie shrieked, covering her head with her hands and trying to put herself between her mother’s sleeping body and the blast. That was why she didn’t see what happened clearly; she was too busy trying to protect her mother.

Agatha thrust her hands into the air, shouting, “Galair!” in her most ringing voice. A dome of colored light snapped into place around her, and the flying debris bounced harmlessly off of it. It tinted her view of the room a smoky shade of amber, but it wasn’t enough to keep her from seeing the chunk of the doorframe strike Luke across the side of the head. His eyes went briefly wide with surprise, and then he was falling, crumpling to the hallway floor in a boneless heap.

The debris still in the air froze abruptly before falling straight downward, suddenly robbed of its momentum. Marnie looked back toward the door, uttering a wordless cry as she saw Luke crumpled there, unmoving. She started to run to him, and froze as unseen hands caught hold of her, fixing her in place.

“Don’t fight me, Marnie,” said Sophie’s voice, from the direction of the blasted door. “It isn’t worth it. You tricked me once, but I’m stronger than you, now. I don’t want to hurt you. I don’t want to hurt _any_ of you.”

“Let me go!” Marnie cried. “Luke! Luke, are you all right? Can you hear me? _Luke_!”

Sophie came walking into the hallway, looking dispassionately down at Luke’s fallen form. She nudged him with her foot. He didn’t move. “Gosh, Marnie. If I were going to make a golem, I wouldn’t make it so funny-looking. How’s anybody supposed to believe this thing’s for real? It doesn’t even look like a person.” She sighed, gustily. “Maybe you’ll do better next time. Or you would, if there was going to _be_ a next time. Sorry.”

“Sophie, what are you _talking_ about?” Marnie stared at her sister, stricken as much by Sophie’s words as by the sight of Luke lying unmoving on the floor. “Luke’s not a golem! He’s a goblin!”

“There’s no difference,” Sophie said dismissively. Raising her hands to shoulder level, she started to chant.

“Sophie!” Agatha cried. “Stop! Don’t do this!”

Sophie stopped chanting, looking toward Agatha and scowling. “Why? Because you don’t want your precious favorite granddaughter to get her toys broken? I know you chose her over me. I know what you’re trying to do. And I won’t _let_ you. I’m going to get rid of this golem, and then me and Mom and Dylan, we’re going _home_. You can’t stop us!”

“Sophie, darling, why would I want to stop you from doing what will make you happy?” Out of the corner of her eye, Aggie could see Marnie straining against the spell that bound her. She was starting to wiggle free. If she could just keep Sophie talking--and keep her from hurting Luke for just a little longer--Marnie might be able to get loose. Two against one wouldn’t be a fair fight. It might also be a fight they could win without anyone being seriously hurt. “You’re welcome to go home.”

“Since when do you care about my happiness? It’s just Marnie with you. Kalabar told me _everything_.” Sophie glared at her. “You were going to take over Halloweentown, you and Marnie, and you didn’t care if it meant the rest of us got hurt. Well, I’m not going to let you. Do you hear me? I won’t _let_ you.”

“Oh, my God, his crazy _was_ contagious,” said Dylan, sounding horrified. Sophie whipped around to face him, eyes wide. “Are you _listening_ to yourself? Jeez, Sophie. Grandma and Marnie may be crazy, but they didn’t _kidnap_ us and lock us in a _dungeon_. You’ve totally lost perspective here.” He stood, crossing his arms, and shook his head. “I was definitely right when I told Mom she needed to stop letting you watch so much television.”

“Dylan, she sold us out!”

“Um, newsflash, Sophie: she didn’t stick us in some stupid dungeon and knock Mom out with magic Tinker Bell powder. Marnie’s weird, but she didn’t _do_ anything to us.”

Sophie stared at him, unwilling to believe the things he was saying to her. Dylan was always the rational one. So why was he spouting such horrible lies? “Stop _saying_ that! If they’re so good, why wouldn’t they give me magic?” Suddenly infuriated, she raised her hands and made a flinging gesture, sending a ball of blue-green fire blazing in his direction.

Too surprised to think about what he was doing, Dylan whipped his own hands up in a blocking gesture, and caught the fireball. He stood there, staring at his hands.

Sophie was staring, too, and her shock was enough to release the spell binding Marnie, who stumbled suddenly forward, and started to run toward Luke.

“Marnie, no!” Agatha called. “Get your sister!” She dropped the shield spell around herself, raising her own hands and starting to chant.

Marnie slammed into Sophie, wrapping her arms around the smaller girl as she started trying to struggle. Up close, the stench of Kalabar’s magic was almost palpable. “Grandma, she’s under a spell! Not just the wish!”

Agatha continued to chant, hands beginning to glow white. Closing her eyes, Marnie joined in. Sophie moaned. The chant ended on a high, ringing note, as Sophie went limp in Marnie’s arms.

Dropping her hands, Agatha sighed. “He enchanted her to make her more willing to believe what she wanted to believe.”

“Is she all right now?” Marnie asked.

“We’ll have to wait and see.”

“Um, guys?” They turned to see Dylan still holding the fireball at arm’s length, eyes very wide. He looked up at them, and asked, plaintively, “What do I do with this?”

“Well, just put it down, dear, it’ll fizzle once it doesn’t have a purpose,” said Aggie, sensibly. Dylan made a dropping motion, and the fireball disappeared. “There you are. My, aren’t you just the finest potential warlock?”

“Warlock? Me?” Dylan scoffed. “I’m not a...” He stopped. If he wasn’t a warlock, and he’d snatched a fireball out of the air, what was he, exactly? “I’m not.”

“Marnie?” Sophie raised her head, blinking as if tired. “What happened? Where am I? Where’s Mom?”

“Still asleep, dear,” said Agatha, and walked over to pull Sophie away from Marnie, gathering her into a tight hug. “Oh, _Sophie_.”

“Grandma?” said Sophie, sounding puzzled. Then, jubilantly, she cried, “Grandma!”

Marnie smiled slightly as she watched their reunion. A breeze blew in through the broken door, ruffling her hair, and her smile faded. “Luke!” Turning, she ran back to where the goblin lay, face-down on the floor, and dropped to her knees beside him. “Luke? Luke! Luke, wake up, don’t be dead, wake up...”

Agatha and Sophie stopped their greetings and turned, numbly, to watch as Marnie slumped forward, and started to cry.

#

**99: Sleeping Beauty.**

Being hit in the head by a flying chunk of doorway hurt. It hurt a _lot_. Luke wasn’t sure it qualified as the most painful thing he’d ever experienced, but it sure looked like a clear winner just at the moment. The idea of sleeping until the pain went away was pretty appealing, but he could feel himself starting to wake up, inch by aching inch.

Somewhere, Marnie was talking to him. Somewhere very far away. Still, it was Marnie, and so he did his best to listen. He frowned inwardly. It sounded like she was crying. Who was making his Marnie cry?

“...to wake _up_ , Luke, okay? I just remembered who you are, I mean really remembered, and you have to wake up. You’re not _allowed_ to be dead. I won’t _let_ you.”

Oh. He was making her cry. And she really sounded like his Marnie, too; her memory was really and truly back. She was actually herself again. That was nice.

“Luke!”

And she knew his name.

“Luke. Please. Please, Luke, wake up. Don’t die.” Her last words were very faint, but he still heard them clearly. They were the words he’d never expected to here.

“I love you.”

Luke opened his eyes.

#

**100: Wake-Up Call.**

“Did she just say she...?” Dylan eyed his sister dubiously. He wasn’t sure what was going on, exactly; just that when Sophie came in slinging fireballs and talking crazy, Marnie’s green-skinned friend had gotten himself nailed, and now Marnie seemed to think that talking like she was living in a Disney movie would wake him up. On the other hand... “Huh. Maybe it’ll work. Nothing else in this whacked-out place makes any sense.”

Agatha smiled, a little wistfully. “It’s always nice to see someone figure something out for themselves.”

“It’s about time, too,” muttered Sophie, before she froze, eyes widening. “I...remember.”

“Remember what?” Agatha asked, looking down at her and frowning.

“ _Everything_!”

“Well, I don’t remember anything, so I guess we’re even,” Dylan said sourly.

Whatever Sophie might have said next was cut off by Marnie’s sudden, wordless cry of delight. All three of them turned back toward the doorway, where Luke was sitting up, his arms locked tight around Marnie, who was holding just as tightly onto him, sobbing into his shoulder. Agatha smiled.

“Look out, Halloweentown,” she said. “The Cromwells are _back_.”

#

**101: The Plan They Had.**

It wasn’t the best plan. It wasn’t the safest plan. But it was the only plan that they had.

Once Luke was back on his feet, the bumps and bruises he’d sustained from Sophie’s entrance smoothed over with a simple healing spell, Agatha had led them all into the kitchen, leaving only Gwen behind to slumber on the couch. “Fairy magic,” she said, “always has an escape clause, but when the spell is this far-reaching, you have to go to the source.”

“Perryn,” said Marnie, grimly. She was holding fast to Luke’s hand--had been since he was healed--and didn’t seem inclined to let go any time soon.

“But how can we cancel the wish, Grandma?”

“If they hadn’t locked up all the other fairy godmothers, you could ask one of them to let you wish the world back to normal, but as it stands...” Agatha’s lips thinned into a hard line. “Break her wand, break the spell. It’s as simple as that.”

“So we’re going to go and find a crazy fairy godmother so we can take her wand away and get rid of what you people think she did to the world?” Dylan demanded. “That doesn’t sound simple to me.”

“I said simple, dear,” said Aggie. “Not easy.”

Now here they were, just the five of them--one witch rendered old and tired before her time, two apprentice witches still shaking off the remains of a fairy godmother’s spell, one unwilling warlock, and one somewhat battered goblin--marching toward City Hall to take on a fully-powered warlock and the fairy godmother than had already been able to enchant them all once.

The square was practically deserted, lit only by the dark, smoky flames from the great jack-o-lantern that was the heart of all Halloweentown. Marnie left her right hand clasped in Luke’s, but held her left hand out to her grandmother, who took it firmly, joining her own left hand with Sophie, who reached out to Dylan. He eyed the line dubiously for a moment before finally taking his sister’s hand, completing the chain.

They came to a halt in front of City Hall, where Agatha tipped her head back and shouted, “Kalabar! Your reign of terror is over! Come out and face us like a man!”

Eerie laughter filled the square, and then the doors of City Hall were opening, and Kalabar himself was stepping out, looking jaunty and relaxed in his top hat and suit coat. “Now, really, Aggie, is this the way for a woman of your age and frankly questionable social standing to behave? Be reasonable. Turn around and go home like a good little Cromwell, and we’ll forget about this whole thing.”

“We know what you did to Halloweentown, you monster!” shouted Marnie.

“I? I did nothing, you foolish little witch,” he spat. “My lovely wife, on the other hand, restored the glory that you had so selfishly, stupidly taken away from me. Why should the Cromwells have all the power? What makes you so worthy of guarding this place?”

“How about the part where they don’t ruin it?” Luke shouted.

“Halloweentown is supposed to be something wonderful, and you’ve destroyed it!” Marnie added. “That ends here!”

“Yes,” Kalabar said, shaking his head. “I suppose it does.”

On the last word, he whirled around, shaping his hands like he was hurling a ball. A globe of glowing light shot out and toward the line of people standing in front of him; they let go of one another and dove at the last minute, scattering.

“Did you fools really believe that you could defeat me?” he boomed. “I am Kalabar! I am _King_!”

“You are yesterday’s news!” shouted Sophie, scrambling to her feet. “We beat you once, and we can beat you again!”

“That’s right!” said Agatha, rising to stand behind her granddaughter. “Marnie! Dylan! Luke! Find Perryn!”

“On it, Grandma!” said Marnie, and grabbed Dylan, hauling her brother to her feet as she ran toward City Hall, with Luke following close behind.

“I don’t think I’ll be that difficult to find,” Perryn’s voice said, from behind them. The trio skidded to a stop, whirling around to face her. The fairy godmother smirked. “Isn’t this cute? You’re trying to undo all my good work. Well, I’m afraid that can’t be allowed.”

“We aren’t making any wishes, Perryn!” said Luke. “There’s nothing you can do to us!”

“Not to you, perhaps, but to darling Gwen? To little Sophie? Oh, I think you’re choosing to underestimate what a threat I can be.” Perryn’s smirk widened. “Go home, children. You’ve lost before you fully be--”

Dylan slammed into her from the side, sending her sprawling as he exclaimed, “You stay away from my mother!”

Startled, Perryn lost her balance, stumbling to the side, and lost her grip on the wand at the same time. Luke dove forward, grabbing it. With an indignant scream, Perryn flung Dylan away, and pursued the goblin as he turned and ran from her.

“Marnie!” Luke shouted. Perryn shrieked, closing the distance between herself and Luke in a buzz of wings. Her hands closed around his throat, and the two of them went down hard, skidding on the rotten straw that covered the ground until Luke’s shoulder slammed up against the pumpkin. But as Luke fell, he threw the wand, sending it spinning end over end through the air.

Marnie thrust her hand into the air, and caught it.

“Hey, fairy godmother!” she shouted. “Looking for something?”

Perryn turned toward her, eyes very wide. On the other side of the square, Kalabar was flinging balls of flame and ice at Marnie’s sister and grandmother, but that didn’t matter. All that mattered was the wand.

“Little girl...” Perryn began. “Marnie. Please. You don’t know what you’re doing. You don’t know--”

“I’m saving Halloweentown,” Marnie said, voice flat. She took the wand in both her hands, and bent sharply downward. Perryn screamed.

The sound of the shaft snapping was almost anticlimactic.

#

**Interlude: Breaking Wishes, Part II.**

The crystal shattered as the light inside it went fully out, sending fine shards scattering in all directions. They tinkled as they landed, like distant bells.

And then there was silence.

#

**102: Halloweentown, Part II.**

There was a flash of blinding light. Marnie dropped the broke halves of the wand, raising her arm to cover her eyes. All around her, the others did the same.

It wasn’t until she heard the sound of distant birdsong and felt sunlight on her skin that Marnie lowered her arm, and stared around herself with undisguised delight. Kalabar was gone, and so was Perryn; so were the clouds that had choked out the sky since Luke hauled her back to Halloweentown. The buildings around the square were clean and jolly-looking, exactly as they should be, and the flame in the pumpkin burned brightly.

“Home,” she whispered.

“Oh, _Marnie_!” Agatha shouted, and then she was running across the square to grab Marnie and pull her into a hug, with Sophie close behind. Even Dylan came over, throwing his arms around the three of them.

“Grandma,” said Marnie, happily. Agatha looked like herself again; the aura of tired, beat-down hopelessness was gone.

“Mom! Kids!”

“Mom!” Sophie cried. The four of them turned to see Gwen running toward them, arms outstretched, and Sophie and Dylan ran to her. The other denizens of Halloweentown were beginning to creep back out of their homes, looking around with caution that quickly became joy.

Luke picked himself up from where Perryn had dragged him, dusting the straw off his shirt. He didn’t even see Marnie coming until her arms were thrown tight around his neck, and she was kissing him, and then his arms were around her waist, and nothing else really seemed to matter.

Across the square, Gwen looked up from hugging her two younger children, and stared. “Is that...?”

“They finally figured it out,” said Sophie, happily.

“Nothing like Halloween for lovers,” said Agatha. “Truly, there’s nothing at all.”

And almost despite herself, Gwen smiled.

#

**103: Some Enchanted Evening, Part II.**

“How’s my hair?”

“Your hair is fine.”

“How’s my stasis-spell?”

“Your stasis-spell is fine.”

“Sophie, how do you _know_ when you don’t even look up from your book?” Marnie demanded.

Sophie raised her head, shrugging. “Because it was true the last eight times.”

Since returning from Halloweentown, the Cromwells had found the mortal world entirely restored, as if Perryn’s wish had never changed things in the first place...but unlike Halloweentown, where the residents remembered the horrible reworking of their home, the mortals had completely forgotten. For them, the wish had never happened. It was probably better that way.

The rest of the school year had been as interminably dull as Marnie had known it would be...but the tedium was somewhat alleviated by her trips back to Halloweentown, which had become even more frequent now that she had something other than lessons to visit for. Luke still didn’t much like to fly. Marnie was learning the value of long walks, and of the hidden nooks and crannies on Lost Lover’s Lane.

Spreading the skirts of her black and orange satin dress, Marnie nodded anxiously. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

“I think he’d like it if you wore a potato sack,” Sophie said seriously.

Marnie grinned. “When did you get so smart?”

“I always have been,” Sophie said.

Maybe you only get one prom. But there’s always Grad Night. And that particular Grad Night would be remembered forever as the year when the witch and the goblin--with no illusions in sight--shared a slow dance three feet above the gymnasium floor.

Happy Halloween.


End file.
